


You've Got Mail (She Loves Me)

by orangeyouglad8



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - You've Got Mail Fusion, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 50,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7618714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeyouglad8/pseuds/orangeyouglad8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when big, bad, Fox Books opens up around the corner from the small, hipster, Arkadia Books? A Clexa spin on the classic You've Got Mail. Business rivals turned...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Importing this over from Tumblr where I've been rolling it out pretty steadily. Going to upload here and there as we go forward. We are just about half way through this journey!

The ringing and clanging of the metal grate echoes loud in Clarke’s ears as she rolls it up, ready to start a new day. The city awake and alive around her, bustling with noise and rush hour as people jostle by on the street. **  
**

A few people who live in the neighborhood nod their heads in hello, faces grim and set with the walk to work, headphones in ears blocking out as much of the world as possible.

Clarke grabs her hot cup of coffee from the mailbox outside the door, shoves her key in the lock and walks inside the store. The jingle of the bell as she opens the door familiar and warm.

It’s small, but it’s hers.

Arkadia Books.

The displays in the window need to be changed out today, signs need to go up for the new books they have coming in, the reading for next week. She takes a deep breath and flips the lights on before setting her stuff in the back.

Raven saunters in next, a grimace on her face and a coffee stain on her shirt.

“Trying to walk and drink at the same time again, Rave?”

“Fuck off, Clarke.”

Clarke laughs at Raven’s death glare and brushes her sass off, too busy with the opening of the store to worry about anything else.

She’s known Raven all her life, the girl has never been a morning person.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t switch to the closing shift.”

“Because you know I like to get in and get out and get my groove on when the sun goes down.”

“Ok… no. Just, no.”

Both girls laugh and Raven switches on the music. The day couldn’t start out any better, if Clarke is being honest.

Xx

“Shit, I forgot we scheduled that kids book sale today.” Clarke groans as yet another harried parent walks through the front door with excited children. Usually it’s one of her favorite things about working in the bookstore.

Of owning it.

Seeing the look of wonder cross a child’s face as they connect with a book. With the stories before them, rich and alive.

New readers are born every day and Clarke can’t get enough.

“Yeah, you severely understaffed here, Griffin.” Murphy calls out from behind the register, the line long and growing.

“I sure did.”

Clarke hops on the other till and begins ringing out customers. She spies Raven moving around the floor, fixing displays and grumbling at kids. “Raven,” She nudges her head and waits for Raven to come over to the register. “I think you should stay up here, I’ll fix the store, ok?”

“Sounds great.”

“Easy…”

Clarke walks over to the display and sets the books back up, answering questions lobbed at her from parents at all sides. She smiles and nods, happily points out her favorites when asked, and offers suggestions.

“Are you always this busy?” A quiet voice pulls her attention away from the display that just won’t stand right.

“Forgot I planned a sale.”

“Ah.” Clarke looks up and her heart stutters for a second. Piercing green eyes are looking at her with a hint of mirth. A smirk on plump lips. Fingers dusting along the books on the shelf behind them.

“Can I help you with something?”

“I’ve never been in here before, wanted to look around.”

“Well, we always love new customers. What do you like to read?”

The girl turns and looks at her, a bigger smile now. “Everything.”

“Lexa… what do you think of this one?” A boy bounds up to Lexa, holding a graphic novel in his hands. Clarke can see the swords and black blood on the cover. Vaguely familiar but nothing she’s read.

“Is that the new one?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been able to find it anywhere. Hey, why don’t we-”

“Aden, this is the owner of the store.”

“I’m Clarke.” She holds out her hand for the girl, Lexa, to shake. “How’d you know I was the owner?”

“Lexa, this is my brother, Aden. And… I pay attention.” She shoots Clarke a full smile and Clarke’s stomach swoops down to her feet.

“You know Aden, the guy who works here in the evenings loves that series, he’s got us stocked up.”

“It’s so good, one of my favorites.”

Lexa puts her arm around the boy’s shoulders, “Aden has been an avid reader since he was little. We decided to pop in here on our way to lunch. Sibling bonding time and all that.” Lexa smirks at her again and Clarke can’t fight the smile on her face.

“Nice. You know, we’re really quite a charming store when we’re not being overrun with children.”

“I bet. I’ll have to come back and scope it out sometime.”

“I hope you do.” Clarke blushes as the words leave her lips.

Aden walks over to the counter and pays for his book, and Lexa steps closer to Clarke. “I’ve heard a lot about this store. I’m sorry I never got the chance to come down here before.”

“Well, we’re here… our hours are on the door right there.” Clarke points to the door behind Lexa, the slightest bit of flirt seeping into her voice.

“I’ll have to make a note of that.” Aden joins them again and Lexa ruffles his mop of hair. “Ready, kid.”

“I hate it when you call me that, Lexa.”

“Yeah, that’s why I do it.” She laughs and Clarke thinks it might be the prettiest sound she’s ever heard.  “We’re off to lunch now, then the Yankees game.”

“Sounds like good sibling time.”

“Oh yeah, Lexa is the shit.” Aden’s eyes light up when he talks about his sister.

“Have a good day, Clarke. Call in some reinforcements next time.” Her voice is teasingly light and her eyes are sparkling when they meet Clarke’s.

She walks away before Clarke can think of any words to say.

Xx

“Who was that, Griff?”

“I don’t know but I hope she comes back.”

Raven nudges her shoulder and winks at her, “I haven’t seen you flirt in a while. You’re a little rusty, pal.”

“Fuck off.”

“Shhh… there are little ears around. I don’t want my boss to yell at me!”

Clarke laughs at that and walks into the back room to take a look at the sales numbers while it slows down. She boots up her computer and hops on the internet to check her mail and the status of the new order that’s supposed to be on the way.

Her inbox is flooded with receipts and shipment information but her eye catches on the one thing that’s not related to work.

A new email waiting from The_Commander, sent this morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Lexa’s phone buzzes in her back pocket as she walks with Aden into Yankee Stadium. They stroll down to their regular seats three rows up from home plate, the company row empty except for them. Aden smiles into his cotton candy with glee and Lexa pulls the bill of his cap down lower over his eyes, causing him to groan.

She whips the phone from her pocket and slides it open, shooting off a few quick texts during warm ups.

“No work today, Lexa.”

“It’s not work, bud. I promise. I’d never break our sacred sibling day rule.”

“Sure…”

Lexa nudges his face into the cloud of pink sugar and laughs when he scoffs.

She smiles just the tiniest bit when she opens her newest email, a message from the mysterious Wanheda waiting for her to read.

She only gets three lines in before Aden grabs the phone and sits on it.

“No. Work.”

“Aden, that wasn’t work!”

He doesn’t budge and Lexa gets up with a sigh to get a beer.

Xx

It’s been a few months of emails with Wanheda. First it was the mutual following of each other on tumblr, Lexa’s secret guilty pleasure. Perusing the website has become a bit of a habit in between long, monotonous days. Moments of silly fun in between meetings and budgets and sales.

It’s ridiculous.

She doesn’t care.

Mutuals led to messages led to private emails, screen names only.

They talk about books. The weather. New York things.

Lexa doesn’t know anything about her, except, well, she’s a her. And they’re roughly the same age and live in the same city.

Nothing too personal, nothing detailed about real life.

Just an internet pen pal.

Someone to drop a line once or twice a day. Say hi.

Vent to.

Laugh with.

They share an easy humor that seems to break through the cold, unfeeling text on the internet in a way it shouldn’t.

Words on pages. In boxes on screens.

And yet, Lexa has never once had to wonder if they were joking or not.

Memes and gifsets get reblogged and traded between them like silly inside jokes. Brightening even the most dour of Lexa’s moods.

She stands in line and waits for the pile of hot dogs to share with Aden, sipping her frothy beer and listening to the crack of the bat on the first pitch, the groan that resounds around the stadium. Her mind wanders back to the three lines she read, how they seemed more serious than previous emails they’ve volleyed.

She pushes it to the back of her mind as she takes the flimsy cardboard box of hot dogs into her hand and goes back to her brother.

Xx

They stay for the whole game and into extra innings.

The Yankees win on a walk off double in the twelfth and Aden jumps into the air, screaming loudly and clutching Lexa’s shoulder.

He looks every bit his age like this. Every bit the kid he should be, free from the burden of a dead parent and a workaholic sister. The boy who is almost thirteen yet still craves the affection and approval of his older sibling.

She loves it.

They take a selfie before they leave on Lexa’s phone, and he places it back into her waiting palm with a sneaky grin.

She pulls him into a hug and guides him out of the crowd singing along to New York, New York, careful to pull him away from the drunk fans stumbling all over the park.

He falls asleep on her shoulder in the town car as it weaves through traffic back to the high rise apartment overlooking the park. She listens to his heavy breathing and opens her email again, back to Wanheda.

_Do you ever think about that first moment of fall? When you smell that one hint in the air, even though the rest of the day is still humid and muggy and summer… but there’s that hint that something is coming. I smelled that today when I walked to work and it made me feel so happy inside. If only because it means this unbearable summer will be over soon and the city won’t smell like hot garbage._

_If there’s one thing I could change about New York, it would be hot garbage summer._

_And the Jets. I’d get rid of them, full stop._

It’s such a romantic email.

Romantic only in the sense that Lexa can now smell the exact smell being described on the page. That one pure moment of fall that creeps in on her early morning runs.

The moment she felt this morning.

She smiles to herself and begins a reply, teasing the other girl about the Giants and asking her for a fresh book recommendation.

Every single one so far has been incredible.

Xx

They pull up to the building and Lexa nudges her shoulder, softly calling Aden’s name to wake him up. He startles and blushes, embarrassed for no other reason than his tough facade was cracked by the waning sugar rush from the game.

“Are you gonna come up?”

“Nah, I’ve had enough of Dad for a couple days.”

“Lexa… you know he only argues with you at work because you’re moving in a new direction and that scares him.”

A short laugh leaves her lips, “Aden, if you keep acting this smart Dad won’t let your poor grades keep sliding like he has been.”

“Can’t help it if I listen, or if I know things you two stubborn assholes don’t.”

“Alright, alright, good day today, kid.” She pulls him into a half, one armed hug and shoves him out the door of the car after he opens it. “See you next week?”

“Maybe…”

“Maybe?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Maybe. I might be trying to work on a little somethin’ somethin’.” He wiggles his eyebrows and his eyes light up.

A strange sense of pride strikes her, looking at her kid brother on the sidewalk trying not to be bashful. “Well, if you need any help with pick up lines, don’t go to Dad. I’m not quite sure how he ever bagged a girl like Mom.”

“ _Ew_! Alright, bye.” He steps away and slams the door with a smirk. Lexa watches him nod his head in greeting at the doorman and step into the imposing lobby before finishing her email as the car moves forward.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s later than usual when Clarke leaves for the day, staying well into the evening until Monty pushes her out the door promising to lock up for the night. **  
**

She sighs and pulls out her phone, a few messages from her boyfriend waiting on the screen. Another sigh slips through her lips a second later when she sees that he won’t be home tonight, again. Out with buddies, again.

It’s not at all surprising and Clarke almost expects it. She calls her favorite Thai place for pick up as she tries to push the foot massage she was going to ask for far from her mind.

New scaffolding catches her eye around the corner, signs littering the outside fence. The symbol of a fox, orange and bright against the white background. Before she can pay more attention to it, her phone buzzes with an incoming email.

A smile stretches across her face as she opens it, The_Commander just as witty and charming as ever.

It’s an unbelievably stupid crush to have. This entity out there somewhere in the city. Clarke knows they both live in New York, it was one of the first things they bonded over that didn’t revolve around book blogs on tumblr. Or teasing each other about their sports rivalries.

She smiles every time The_Commander reblogs one of her posts from Arkadia’s account. She hasn’t yet revealed that she runs that one, it’s crossing the weird line they’ve drawn in the sand.

They’re friends and yet, they’re strangers.

Nothing personal crosses between them.

Except, Clarke thinks this girl has learned more about who she truly is at her core in just a few months than most of her friends.

And if she’s really being honest with herself, probably her boyfriend, too.

The_Commander is easy to talk to. An empty page Clarke can write all her thoughts and feelings into. Tell her stories and lame jokes, suggest restaurants and movies. Books. Try out suggestions that come her way and smile when Raven or Octavia wonder where she comes up with things.

It’s all completely unattainable and surreal, making it even more crushworthy.

She picks up her food and climbs up to her second floor apartment in the large brownstone she’s called home for years. Finn’s forgotten sneakers trip her up by the door for the third day in a row and end up outside the apartment with a grunt.

Clarke pulls an old t shirt from her drawer and a soft pair of worn in soccer shorts and settles on the couch with dinner. She texts Finn quietly for a few moments, but loses her attention in re-reading The_Commander’s email.

The television plays quietly in the background, an old black and white movie illuminating the room as her fingers clack along the keyboard of her laptop.

Xx

“Shit, Clarke, did you see the signs around the corner?”

“Uh…” Clarke looks up from the till she’s counting completely at a loss as Raven walks in with two cups of coffee from the cafe across the street.

“Dude, the Fox? I think they’re gonna revamp that old warehouse into a Fox Books.”

“What? No. Why would they open another Fox Books? They just closed the one in Midtown because no one was going there.”

“Yeah, exactly. They closed three of them around the tri-state area but what if they’re morphing them all into one giant be-all end-all warehouse store?” Raven sets her coffee on the counter and drops her bag to the ground, a wild look in her eye.

“I think you’re reading too much into this…”

“And you’re not reading into it enough!”

Clarke sets the counted till in the open register and closes it, ready to begin the day. “Listen, I’m not going to worry until I know anything for sure. In the meantime, we got a giant order in overnight and those books are not going to stack themselves.”

“Have at it, boss. You know how much I hate stacking.”

“Yeah, I do. You’re weird, you know that, right? It’s nice and quiet… thinking time.”

“Ha, sure Clarke. You never have enough of that do you?”

Clarke rolls her eyes at Raven’s tone and grabs her coffee off the counter, with a look of her own. “Suit yourself.”

“I will. And I’m gonna google Fox Books just show I can show you how right I am.”

“Okay, Rave.”

Xx

“Do you do anything other than rearrange book displays?”

Clarke spins around, a warm feeling settling in her stomach at the voice behind her. “Someone’s gotta clean up around here.”

“I think you have employees for that though, Clarke.” Lexa’s smirk is back. Her eyes even greener than Clarke remembers.

“Yeah, but if I’m back here I know that things are how I want them and I can avoid their whining,” she chuckles.

“I suppose that’s true.” Lexa glances at the shelf in front of her, bending down to pick up a few books from the open box at their feet.

“You don’t have to-”

“I know I don’t, but,” she shrugs.

They stack books for a moment until the box is empty and Clarke spins it around to remove the tape and break it down, adding it to the neat stack at the end of the row.

“I’m surprised to see you back again so soon.” Clarke breaks the easy silence, nervous and fluttery.

“Well, I was in the neighborhood. And, I promised that I would come by and check it out when you weren’t being overrun with children.” Lexa turns to meet Clarke’s gaze, a playful look on her face.

“No children here today, not at… eleven thirty three in the morning.” Clarke looks at her watch to check the time, to break away from Lexa’s mesmerizing eyes.

“That’s a great watch.”

“Thanks. It was my father’s. He left me two things, this watch and this store.” She holds her arm out signaling to the shelves around them. “Books were his passion.”

“A good passion to have.” Lexa’s voice is quiet and soft. Clarke wants to hear more of it.

“So…” She clears her throat, “Were you looking for anything in particular or just making a habit of browsing small, hipster bookshops?”

“I like to browse, yes.” Lexa’s lips tilt up, and she shuffles her feet where she stands.

“Should I leave you to it?”

“Or you could show me around?”

Clarke smiles at that, the bashful way Lexa asks. So calm and stoic not a moment before, but now slightly unsure of herself. It sets Clarke’s heart racing. She picks up her phone from the shelf and puts it back in her pocket, the email from The_Commander forgotten for now.

Put aside for a real, stunning girl right before her eyes.

“Anything for the customer.” Clarke smirks and turns away back down the aisle, making sure to put an extra sway in her gait.


	4. Chapter 4

“Dad, we really should not be doing this. Opening a new store is not a good idea, we bled money on the last open. Just because our profits have turned around over the last quarter doesn’t mean we have the infrastructure to utilize.”

“Lexa, I really hate it when you patronize me.”

“Yeah, well, I hate it when you don’t look at the reports. You may still be on the board, but I’m the CEO now. Remember? You turned over the company to me and yet, you refuse to let me run it.”

He grumbles, his face reddening. “That’s not fair, you know I trust your judgment.”

She stands and leans on her desk, trying not to lose her temper but failing. “Then why have I had to fight you on every single decision, every single proposal for the past year?”

He sighs then, and sits in the chair across from her, defeated and heavy. “I don’t know, kiddo. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe you mentioned this to the board behind my back, Dad.” She looks down at her desk, shaking her head at the memo that she found this morning. “You completely undercut me on this.”

“Yeah…. I didn’t mean to, it just came out.”

“Please, you’ve been running this company for thirty years, no way it just came out.”

“Well, we still need to wait for full approval and with your reports and presentation to the board, it probably won’t go through alright.”

Lexa runs her hands through her hair and sits in her chair, sizing her father up. “You’re right. In the meantime, we have signs all around the area announcing the development.”

“Not always a bad thing, it pulls our name back into focus.”

“We definitely don’t need that, not after closing three stores in the last year. I went down there yesterday, it’s like a Fox Books wallpaper factory with all those signs.”

He pauses and Lexa can see him choosing his words, “You worry too much, you always have. We’re gonna take hits sometimes, it’s the nature of the beast.”

“I’d like there to be a beast to control for a few more years, ok?”

Lexa stands again and pours them both a drink, handing her father his glass and staring out the window at the skyline around them. The fog from the morning hasn’t quite cleared, leaving a lingering threat of rain and drudgery.

“How’s Costia?”

“She’s fine. Busy… you know her, always running around trying to save the world.”

“She’s good for you, Lexa.”

Lexa nods absentmindedly, thinking about the stiff goodbye she shared with her girlfriend of three years just this morning. “Yeah.”

“You ok?”

“I’m…. fine,” she sighs.

“Sounds like you need this drink more than I do.”

“Probably.” She takes a sip, stealing some liquid courage from the glass. “I really think we should start financing small bookstores around the city. Underwriting them.  I think it’s a good way to keep some color and flavor in the neighborhoods.”

“You’re such a dreamer, kiddo. You know how a lot of these shops are, they hate us. Why do you think they’d accept that?”

“What’s the alternative? How many little shops did we close last time we expanded?”

He swigs his whiskey and grimaces at the bite. “Nature of the beast.”

Xx

There’s an email waiting for her when she returns to her desk. Her father left and in his wake Lexa feels a strange sense of exhaustion and confusion.

She smiles as she clicks it open, the conversation before her easy and light and brightening her sullen mood almost immediately. She smirks to herself as she replies, her fingers flying over the keyboard easily. The staccato ringing around her quiet office.

She answers the questions asked and opens with one of her regulars. The kind that has gone unanswered many times.

_When will you tell me the meaning behind your handle? You’ve refused to answer it and google has been off the table since forever. I’ll have you know, I’ve never wanted to google a stupid question or reference more, by the way. You’re taking away my google joy! Who even does that?_

_The answer, of course, is only a monster._

_I should have googled it before I knew you. When you were just an innocent blogger, sending silly memes into the universe with cheeky tags._

_And yet, I was too lazy._

_So, I guess when you think about it, put together, we are quite the pair, no?_

_Do you ever wonder if you’re doing the right thing? Personally? Sometimes… sometimes I’m not sure I’m where I need to be. Professionally, I’m killing it. Trust me on that. But, personally? Can we really ever feel satisfied in both aspects?_

She debates deleting it as soon as she’s done. Wandering into a zone they usually stay away from. Real life.

They don’t talk about their relationships, not really. No family stuff, no drama.

And yet, she wonders if this sounding board, this person she can tell anything to simply because she’s there and she’s a spectre, might hold the key. An answer.

Insight.

Xx

Her apartment is cold and empty when she returns home late.

Too late.

Costia has gotten into the habit of napping at work for an hour or two before getting up and continuing well into the morning. Her work at the Public Defender’s office overwhelming to say the least.

Lexa used to love the look in her eyes when she started, the fire and passion.

Now there is only exhaustion. Mental fatigue. Her girlfriend is working herself to the bone and Lexa doesn’t know how to help, how to stop it.

She set up a home office for Costia down the hall from the bedroom.

It is hardly used. The desk covered in a thin layer of dust.

They have drifted apart slowly over the past few months. Knowing which way it’s going, but both too afraid or nervous or lazy to say anything about it.

Instead they silently pass each other. Follow the routine, the pattern, they’ve fallen into.

Lexa wishes she missed her.

But she doesn’t.

She flips on the light in the kitchen, the stainless steel appliances bouncing light back at her. She pulls eggs from the fridge and cooks herself an omelet, pours a glass of orange juice and sits in front of the big screen alone, in the dark. The Yankees losing spectacularly before her.

Her mind wanders back to Clarke Griffin. The bright blue eyes and the wide smile. The bashful way she asked Lexa why she was already back.

How she remembered to ask if Aden enjoyed his graphic novel.

How alive Lexa felt inside while talking to her. Something coming together in a way she’s never felt before.

How royally screwed she’ll be if she doesn’t man up soon and figure out just what she wants.


	5. Chapter 5

The alarm blares loudly, pulling Clarke from a pleasant dream about something she forgets as soon as she wakes. She slaps the bedside table blindly until she finds her phone, silencing her alarm with a groan and flipping herself over to start waking up.

The message she sees from Raven does the trick. A smug   ** _I was right_** followed by a link. Clarke swallows and rubs her eyes, not nearly awake enough for this yet.

She stands and stretches, starting the coffee pot in the kitchen before dumping herself in the shower, letting the warm water gently wake her up to a new day. The scroll on the bottom of the news tells her that Raven definitely was right. She picks up her phone and opens the link, reading it and feeling dread creep into her belly.

Nothing about this is good news.

Xx

“Do I get a prize?”

“ _Really_ , Raven?”

“Yeah, but I was right.”

Clarke levels her with a look and Raven cocks her head, accepting the challenge. They stare at each other silently for a moment before Raven slides over a cup of coffee from The Ground as a peace offering.

“I don’t know how we’re going to handle this yet,” Clarke sighs, picking up the paper cup and drawing warmth from it.

“We’ll figure it out, we always do.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Raven smirks, “I usually am, Clarke. I don’t know why you don’t believe me yet.”

Xx

Word of a new Fox Books in the neighborhood spreads quickly. Clarke fields several questions and concerns from patrons, as well as the worries of her staff.  She tries to remain calm, but as the day wears on, she feels the fear start to slip in.

She’s thankful that today is the day inventory gets counted and she can hide in the back with something intensive to distract her mind.

When her mother’s name pops up on her phone, she isn’t surprised. She rolls her chair away from the desk and answers the call, hoping to find some strength and balance. Instead her mother’s voice is tight and clipped, only further adding to the burden on Clarke’s shoulders.

Defeated and resigned, Clarke opens up a new message in her inbox, breaking the unspoken rule and sending The_Commander another email even though her last hasn’t been volleyed back yet.

_Do you ever just feel like suddenly everything is taking a turn? Like, out of nowhere something swoops down and just shits on your path? I got some potentially not great news this morning and at first I was taking it in stride but as the day has gone on I feel it sticking to me.  Everyone around me expects me to be strong, to fight. But, today… today I simply need to feel. I have no plan of action, I have no idea what I’m going to do. I just want to go back to yesterday when I was completely naive. Build me a time machine, take me back._

She bites her lip, arrow hovering over the send button. It’s the most she’s really admitted to her pen pal. The deepest she’s gotten about real life in the moment. She hesitates and moves the arrow over the trash button, almost ready to press it when a soft knock comes at her door.

Finn, his face looking shy and worried. A bag from her favorite deli in his hands like some sort of peace offering.

“Are you busy, Princess?”

Clarke tries to smile for him. Tries to pull her mind out of it’s spiral and enjoy the fact that her boyfriend is here, worried, with lunch.

“Not at all, not for you.” Her smile comes easier when she sees the relief on his face as he steps further into her office. “You brought lunch?”

“I figured you’d need it.”

“Let me just finish up these emails and I’ll be all yours for a bit, ok?”

He nods and sets the bag on her desk, pulling the contents out and spreading them like a picnic. Clarke looks back at the email and clicks send before she can rethink it.

“Oh, I forgot… there’s this big party I got invited to Friday. Some major players from firms all over the city are going to be there. I hope it’s not too late to get you as my date….” Finn’s voice pulls her back to the present, stops her from debating her actions even more.

When he looks at her like that, with his big eyes and earnest face, she remembers why she fell for him in the first place. Even though they’ve been in a weird stasis for the past few months, even though she’s been wondering if he’s biding his time before he breaks it off. His distance growing more profound.

“This Friday?”

“Yeah. I think some publishing people will be there, too. Could be good for you to network a little bit.”

She smiles genuinely at him, wishing so much he were still this person all the time. “Sounds great, looks like you’ve got yourself a hot date, Collins..”

He leans over the desk and brushes a soft kiss over her lips. It doesn’t feel anything like it used to.

It feels like a ghost of what was.

Xx

The email Clarke received back was immediate.

Short.

_Are you ok? Are you sick?_

She feels guilt wash over her. A flood of embarrassment. Clicking send without reading it over, thinking about her language.

And then allowing Finn to distract her for longer than she should have.

_Not sick, but pretty much an idiot. I’m sorry. Um, it’s about work. I should have specified, reading that message back I can see how the assumption would be made. I’m going to go crawl into a hole now, ok? Ok._

She sends the message and slides back out to the floor to see what’s going on before she digs herself back into the inventory hole.

“So… Finn’s still alive then?” Raven quirks her eyebrow up from the register.

“Seems that way.”

“Good thing your little customer crush didn’t come in today. That would have made things awkward for sure. Actually, now I’m sad she didn’t, I could have used the pick me up of some good drama today.”

Clarke laughs, “Some people would listen to us and wonder how we’re friends, you know?”

“I do. It’s the best.” Raven swings an arm over Clarke’s shoulder and pulls her close for a one armed hug. “Really though, I haven’t seen him in a long time… is everything ok?”

Clarke worries her lip again and lets out a long breath, “No. Probably not.”

“Clarke, the last time I saw you this bummed out about your love life was when that girl told you she was moving to San Francisco back in tenth grade.”

“Yeah… damn, that was my first heartbreak I think.”

“I know. I was there to pick up the pieces and let me tell you, this lackluster look you’ve had in your eyes for the past few months is the same one I saw back then, too.”

“He’s just… busy with work a lot I guess. I don’t know. Everything ebbs and flows, right?”

“It does. Just make sure this is an ebb and not a bigger issue, ok? You deserve the world, Clarkey. I will beat that boy up if he hurts you, I have no qualms.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “I have no doubt about it. It makes me feel even worse though.”

“Why?”

“Because you saw him first.”

“I did. But, I think I might have dodged a bullet. Plus, he always had eyes for you, babe. I would have ended up dumping his ass anyway and then we’d both be heartbroken.”

Clarke squeezes her even tighter, thanking the universe for this amazing being she’s had in her life for as long as she can remember. “Too true.”

“At least he showed up today and brought lunch.”

“Yeah,” Clarke sighs. “He did. He got me the wrong sandwich, but he did.”

Raven kisses her cheek and hops off the stool to answer the phone at the corner of the counter. Clarke glances up at the door almost wishing Lexa would walk through again, with her familiar smirk and her pretty eyes, making this day not a total waste.

She doesn’t bother to wonder what it means, that Lexa would be the one to make the day better.


	6. Chapter 6

Lexa wakes up alone.

The king bed feels empty, cold. She stretches and rises with the dawn before her alarm, not bothering to check her phone for any fires.

There are always fires. There isn’t always time to run.

Her feet hit the pavement and the thoughts pound in her head. Costia starts jury selection today for a trial, Lexa knows she probably won’t see her girlfriend until it’s concluded. She has three meetings this morning, one with the board to discuss the new store. There’s an event at the end of the week she’s supposed to attend, Costia was the one that encouraged her to RSVP.

Now she’ll probably be going alone.

Maybe she can break Aden out and drag him along, chalk it up to learning the family business.

She sees a flash of blonde pass her on the trail in the park and does a double take. Her heart stutters in her chest. It’s not Clarke.

She doesn’t know why she wants it to be.

Xx

There’s an email waiting for her in her inbox from the previous night. She barely has time to start reading it before shit hits the fan and blows up her phone.

Her usual walk to work is harried and stressed as she answers calls and texts when she can. Her father is waiting for her as soon as she walks into her office.

“Dad.”

“Lexa… we’ve got a problem.”

“Yeah,” she holds up her phone and shakes it in his direction, “tell me something I don’t know yet.”

“Ok, listen. I know you’re upset about this, but I’m trying to help. I don’t need any sass from you.”

Lexa sighs and hangs up her coat, “You’re the reason we’re in this mess. Do you have any solutions to fix it?”

“We have to get ahead of it, kid.”

She nods and tries to swallow the anger at his patronizing tone. “Dad… You have to stop.”

He looks up flabbergasted, “Excuse me?”

“Just…” She braces herself against her desk, trying to choose her words carefully. “I cannot run this company the way it needs to be run if you’re here backseat driving. I need to have full control. I can’t keep worrying about your thoughts and your decisions. This is _my_ company now.”

“Lexa-”

“No, don’t. This is hard enough as it is. This is your legacy, yours and mom’s, I get that. I grew up knowing what my life would look like before I even realized it. Knowing what was expected of me. But, _you_ gave me control. _You_ stepped aside. I cannot have you here all the time anymore, ok? You’re on the board, you have stock, you have a say. But you’re not me. You’re not in charge. That door says Alexandra now, not Andrew.”

He opens and closes his mouth several times before he scoffs and sits back down in the chair. “How long have you been holding on to that?”

Lexa relaxes a bit, stands straighter. “Since about… my second week as CEO.”

“Well, shit.”

“Dad, I love you. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, but you have to trust me. You have to trust that if I need your advice I will find you, but only after I’ve tried to figure out a solution myself.”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

“Wow, I’m gonna mark down the time and date on that.” She smiles, finally.

“I think I should take a vacation…” He rubs the back of his neck and lets out another loud sigh. “I’ve been kind of a mess lately, huh?”

Lexa softens immediately at the look on his face, “No, Dad. You’ve been surviving. We all have. But yeah, a vacation, when’s the last time you even thought about taking one?”

“Uh,” he blushes.

“Do it. Book it. I’ll be fine. Aden can stay with me.”

“I might take him with me, actually. Bust him out of school for a few days, let him see the world a bit.”

“I think he would love that, Dad. I always did.” Lexa finally settles in her chair and leans back, the stress so clear on her father’s face. “You’re doing ok.”

“I hope so.”

Xx

A wide smile spreads on her face as soon as she has time to open up Wanheda’s newest email. It’s late, already mid-morning and almost time for the board meeting, but she closes her notes and opens the email that’s been tugging at her since she woke up.

It’s cheery and light and flirty and everything their emails always are.

Something settles in her stomach when she reads it, something that chases away the stress of the morning and for just a moment, she feels like Lexa again.

She gets stuck on the last paragraph of the email. The challenge, brazen and open before her. Wondering when they got this overtly flirty with each other.

_Go ahead and google my name. Google won’t tell you anything. Google won’t even know what you’re talking about. The only way you’ll get the answer is by buttering me up, asking me all the right questions. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you in on the secret. But, that’s a big if._

It flusters Lexa so much she doesn’t quite know how to reply. She sits there staring at a blank box, her cursor blinking and teasing her until her intercom buzzes and reminds her that the meeting is starting in five minutes.

She closes the window and stands, preparing herself for the battle that awaits her in the conference room.

Xx

“Who leaked?” Lexa stares down the board members seated nervously around the long conference table.

No one so much as flinches in her direction.

“This is unacceptable and frankly it’s absurd. We had no concrete plans for expansion, not yet. I am blown away by the lack of professional decorum I’ve witnessed over the last few months.”

“Lexa,” her father starts, closing his mouth when her glare is directed at him.

“Ms. Fox, we had it on good authority that the new store would be opening by the first quarter of 2017…” A voice from the corner pulls her attention away from her father.

“No, Quint. Nothing was decided at all and now we are up shit’s creek with this. We had no media plan in place, no roll out, no research on the area. If we back out now, we look weak.”

Lexa sighs and opens the folder in front of her, glancing at the talking points for the meeting while retaining nothing.

She listens to Indra drone on about something that she should be paying attention to, but her mind is far away, reeling with numbers and work that must be done for this new store. The new store  that fell into her lap a fully formed idea before she even knew about it.

Her phone buzzing with an incoming email distracts her and she slides it open on her lap, too bored and too overwhelmed to do anything else.

Her stomach plummets at the words on the screen and she shoots off a quick reply before turning her attention back to the meeting at hand.

Xx

After one of the longest board meetings of her life as CEO, Lexa returns to her office weary and tired on every level. The phone on her desk is blinking with messages, there are slips of pink paper piled on top of her calendar with messages her secretary took, and her inbox is flooded with files.

A great sigh leaves her mouth and shakes the dust from the room. Instead of turning to work, she plops herself on the leather chair by the window and slides her heels off, pulling her knees up and curling into herself.

She used to sit like this in this very chair while her father worked. Days when she would be pulled into the office with him, he would smile and nod to the chair while he handled whatever fire needed to be put out for the day.

This chair, this chair makes her feel small, human. Like the person she was before she was molded into the business. If she just keeps sitting here, she doesn’t have to think about any of it. The mess. The store. Costia.

She can just _be_.

Without answers, without direction.

She can go back in time and just be Lexa.

The office darkens around her, clouds moving in over head as the afternoon passes by. She watches the city bustle below her, the people moving and swimming around the crowd, all dealing with their own baggage, their own shit.

Her mind wanders to Wanheda.

The sinking feeling settles back in Lexa’s stomach at the unpleasant thought that her friend could be facing a very real, very scary monster on her end.

Are they even friends? Is that the right term for what this is, this pen pal flirtation that weaves between their devices?

She finally gets up and picks up her cell phone from her desk, ignoring everything else that still begs for her attention. There’s an email waiting for her, unopened and fresh in her inbox.

Holding something dreadful or something relieving.

Part of her mind wonders when she started caring so much about this person who she knows so little about, but who takes up so much space in her head.

Relief floods through her body at Wanheda’s email, even though she can sense the embarrassment from here. Her thumbs work quickly across the screen in reply, tapping against the glass and doing their best to ease away the discomfort.

_Please come out of your hole. I’m not sure you’d be able to email from there and I’ve grown attached to these little things in my inbox. The ones that pull me away from work and distract me in all the best ways._

_I am dealing with something myself today as well, actually. A real fucking shit storm of a something that landed on my desk this week and just blew out of proportion this morning. I’m not entirely sure how to handle it- no, actually I do know how to handle it, I just can’t. I hate that I can’t do what I want. I should be able to, I should be able to pick a course of action and stick to it, just based on title alone but…. There’s so much at play._

_It’s… not ideal._

_So either come out of your hole or dig a spot for me so we can hide away from responsibility and shit storms together. I’ll bring snacks._

Lexa smirks as she feels the warmth and lightness of their repartee return.

_Also, be prepared for buttering. Lots of buttering. I’ll get that name explanation out of you if it’s the last thing I do. But it won’t be. I’m excellent at digging information out of people. And buttering. Definitely._

Something sparks inside of her when she clicks send.

After she’s done, she stands from her chair and stretches, taking in one last look at the purple clouds, threatening and bulbous over the city before sliding her shoes back on, grabbing her jacket and turning the lights out behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

The week passes slowly for Clarke.

Too slowly.

She wants time to move faster, wants to have more answers, more information. Wants to stop answering the same questions from customers, from her staff.

Raven starts bringing her larger coffees, filled with extra shots and extra goodies. Her little gifts of quiet support. Clarke accepts them all with a smile and a nod and buries herself in the back room, working through stock, working through inventory. Ignoring everything she can.

Finn starts coming over again.

Regularly appears on her doorstep instead of using the key she gave him months ago.

It’s strange and it works it’s way into the worries eating at Clarke but she pushes it to the back of her mind, too consumed with everything else to worry about the routine change of her boyfriend and bed partner.

Really, all she wants to do is get rip-roaringly wasted and forget about all of it.

Xx

The door to the store twinkles, and Clarke looks up to find a familiar face.

“Aw yeah, you’re still open! I was afraid I wouldn’t make it.”

“Aden! Hi.”

He ducks his head, bashful and blushing at her smile. “I was wondering if you got the newest shipment of _Natblida_ in this week? You’re the only store that has it and I hate waiting for it to come from the internet.”

“We did get it, I haven’t even had time to put it out yet. Let me go grab one from the back, ok?”

Clarke pulls the new box from the stack in the back and slices through the tape, the smell of fresh books and ink more welcome to her than roses. She takes a deep sniff and pulls out a copy of the graphic novel Aden likes and stares at the cover. There’s a warrior on the front, fierce and focused, two swords in her hands slashing through the air, a long black coat whipping around her feet.

It immediately draws Clarke in. She runs her hand over the picture, fingers tracing the harsh look on the warrior’s face.

She feels compelled to flip through the pages, taking note of the large images before her. Pulled back again and again to the warrior’s fierce face.

She strolls out to the front of the store still working through the graphic novel when Monty laughs at her. “Finally interested, Clarke?”

She startles, “What?”

He gestures at the book in her hands and shares a laugh with Aden. “I’ve been telling you how good that story is for ages and you’re finally flipping through it. Aden, my man, how’d you get her to break?”

Aden shrugs and pulls his wallet out of his backpack to pay for the novel, but Clarke waves him off. “On the house today.”

“No, Clarke, please…”

“Nope.”

“Aw, come on.”

“Aden, save your money, kid. Just promise me you won’t stop coming here to get these?”

He swallows and grimaces a little before putting his wallet back into the large pocket of his backpack. “Uh, yeah alright.”

“No one else here will talk Monty’s ear off about this series, but if you come in for them you two can sit and entertain each other and really, you’d just be doing us all a favor.”

He smiles and Clarke sees a hint of Lexa on his face, her stomach flipping at the flash of a smile she remembers but hasn’t seen in a while.

Monty breaks her from it. “I don’t know about that, Clarke. You looked pretty interested in it just now.”

She laughs and shrugs, “I like books, what can I say. What’s it even about anyway?”

Aden perks up at that. “Oh man, it’s so awesome! It’s about this teenage warlord in this post-apocalyptic wasteland, well I guess she’s not really a teenager anymore. She’s this little kid and she has this special blood and she gets trained with all these other kids with it and they fight and stuff and then she becomes their leader. I can’t even- it’s so much more than that- it’s hard to explain.” He trips over his words and Clarke laughs.

“Seems like.”

He blushes and Clarke can’t help but soften again towards him. “You’ll have to think of a better way to get me interested before next week, ok?”

He nods. “I can do that.”

Clarke walks with him to the door, ready to leave herself but still not wanting to go home and face Finn with his questions and his own frustrations with work.

“How’s your sister?”

Aden visibly gulps at that, pauses and looks like he’s choosing his words. “Uh, she’s good. She’s been really busy with work lately, I haven’t really seen her or talked to her.”

Something prickles at the edge of Clarke’s mind, but she shoves it away. Oddly saddened by Aden’s admission. “Tell her not to work so hard.”

He smiles and waves goodbye and disappears down the block.

Xx

Finn is sitting on her couch with his floppy hair and a grumpy look on his face when Clarke opens the door. She can tell it’s going to be a long night just from the tense set of his shoulders. A sigh escapes her lips and she wishes he wasn’t here.

Wishes she could relax on her own and think about Aden’s stammering about Lexa and the warrior in the pages she can’t put from her mind.

The black ink warpaint on her face so stunning and different and haunting.

It tugs at her.

She wants to sketch it.

Instead Finn’s grunted hello pulls her attention and he immediately sets off whining about his boss and their new project and something Clarke tunes out within seconds. She plops on the couch next to him picking up the takeout boxes on the table.

“Oh, so you didn’t save me any?”

“I didn’t know when you’d be home and I just kind of lost track I guess.”

“ _Seriously_ , Finn?”

He looks taken aback by her anger and turns to look at her, “What?”

She growls and throws the container back on the table, standing and stalking into the kitchen. It’s barely a minute before he follows her.

“Babe, what?”

She turns around and stops swallowing her anger, “What do you mean _what?_ Do you mean to tell me you don’t know exactly why I might be angry given this situation. You’re here in my apartment, grumbling about work as soon as I walk in the door like I don’t have my own shit to handle. Then you tell me you didn’t know what time I’d be home? Like it’s so hard to text me to ask? Or to remember that I’m usually back around the same time every night I stay late for inventory? Didn’t even fucking save me any food. _Jesus_ it’s like you don’t even _know_ me, Finn!”

He tries to interrupt her but he can’t. His mouth opens and closes with every new point she makes. He stands there shell shocked and wide eyed.

They glare at each other for a long moment. Clarke’s chest heaving with her anger, the words she just spit into the small kitchen. The emotions she can’t keep at bay any longer, so much bigger than Finn on her couch.

He steps closer, hesitantly, but she steps back. Head down and hand up, not wanting the comfort. Feeling too raw, too open.

“Alright.” He sighs and she listens to him leave the kitchen. The familiar sounds of him grabbing his jacket and sliding his shoes on reaches her ears but she doesn’t move.

Instead, she lets the door shut quietly before looking up at the ceiling and feeling everything hit her all at once like a tidal wave.


	8. Chapter 8

The week is a whirlwind for Lexa. Prepping more press release statements, meeting with the zoning board, reviewing bids from the construction crews. It’s all… so much.

She’s silently thankful that she can go home to an empty apartment every night. Costia’s presence not even felt in the space anymore. Not really. There are small trinkets and shoes that are two sizes too small by the door, clothes in the other closet that don’t match her style. But it’s almost like Lexa lives alone.

And that’s ok. For this week it’s ok.

She’s tired. Exhausted. Her brain drained of all it’s business prowess. She revels in the silence, the glow of sports on television and the way she can zone out and not think, not talk to anyone else.

Her only source of entertainment is the verbal sparring between her inbox and Wanheda’s.

They talk about work a little bit, both understanding that they’re facing enormous uphill battles on their own respective battlefields.

But mostly, they distract each other.

Lexa appreciates the comfort of it. The silly way she can flirt and joke and fall away from everything else.

It’s comforting. Almost as much as the big leather chair that sits by the window in her office.

Wanheda is…

She doesn’t know what Wanheda is.

And that scares her a little bit.

Xx

Her phone buzzes with a text and she glances down, bored in her fifth meeting of the day.

**Costia: I’ll be home and ready for the party tomorrow, trial won’t start until Tuesday and I think a break will do me good.**

She smiles, shocked that she’ll actually have a date for the party she didn’t even want to attend in the first place. They talk for a few minutes until Lexa ends the meeting and returns to her office, too overwhelmed to know which way is up.

There’s an email waiting for her. The warmth that floods through her feels immediate in a different way than the text from her girlfriend. She realizes the difference between the two, with Costia she was relieved she didn’t have to fly solo to a work event. With Wanheda, she is pleased to continue talking to her, getting to know her.

A warning sign flashes in her head. Loud and obnoxious.

She opens the email, just one line. _Have you googled it yet?_

It’s taunting and Lexa blushes wildly. She bites her lip and responds.

_I have not._

Xx

Lexa worries her hands in the mirror as she takes in the new dress, how it falls on her body.  A strange anxiety fills her, she’s not sure how it will feel to be on a date with Costia tonight.

Will it feel normal, like old times, easy and fun? Or will it reek of their new dynamic, strained and awkward and quiet.

The deep, dark of Costia’s eyes used to thrill her. But now they seem empty, heavy. More than once she’s dreamed of sky blue, crystal clear and sparkling.

Tonight feels like a test. A true determination of what will follow.

Lexa tries to put everything else from her mind, looking forward to a night of free booze and hors d'oeuvres and a charming woman on her arm.  

Costia rushes into the apartment with bluster, kissing Lexa quickly on the cheek before disappearing into the bedroom to change for the evening. Her box of files for the trial lands heavily by the door and her briefcase is brimming with legal pads and papers sprouting out of it like a strange new plant. Lexa smirks and moves the box into the hallway, the heft of it surprising.

She listens to the familiar sounds of Costia getting ready in the next room and feels a buzz of happiness. She’s missed this person, this other being who shares her space, her bed. The apartment feels better when she’s here.

She’s still putting her earrings in when she returns. She looks Lexa up and down but says nothing, instead rushing back to the door to pull her heels back on as she turns her back for Lexa to help her into her coat.

“You look great, Cos,” Lexa smiles, wanting to try to begin bridging this widening gap between them.

“Thanks. We’re already late, let’s go.” She’s through the door and in the hallway before Lexa even has a second to breathe.

Xx

“Fancy meeting you here.” A familiar voice calls Lexa’s attention away from the bar. She turns slowly and finds Clarke standing there with an easy smile.

“Clarke.” A smile spreads on her face to match, her stomach bubbling like the champagne in her flute.

She hands Clarke a second glass of champagne from the bar and clinks glasses with her. They both smile into the suds, and Lexa’s fingers tingle.

“It’s been a while. Still getting lost in bookshops?”

“I haven’t had the time.” Lexa is bright and honest in a way she hasn’t felt in so long. Playful almost.

“That’s a shame. You’re really missing out on the new displays at Arkadia. I know someone has been putting in a lot of work on them.”

“Ah, well, you should definitely think about giving that someone a raise then. Those displays are top notch.”

The grin Clarke sends her flings through Lexa, racing through her bloodstream. Her eyes drift down to the simple black dress Clarke has on, the show of her legs, her toned arms. Lexa hasn’t felt this drawn to anyone in a long time.

A soft hand on her back breaks the easy conversation with Clarke and Lexa’s ears pink at being caught. “You can’t leave me alone at these things, the hounds always want to know your secrets.”

Lexa smiles at her girlfriend, “Costia, this is Clarke. Clarke, this is Costia.”

Clarke accepts Costia’s proffered hand and smiles politely, though Lexa can see the way her blue eyes slip into sadness. She shakes it off magnificently.

“What do you do for work, Clarke? Are you here with one of the firms?”

“Well,” she clears her throat, “I am technically here with one of the firms. My boyfriend Finn works for SpaceWalker, but I own a bookshop.” A ping stabs at Lexa when she hears the word boyfriend. She doesn’t like it, tries to unhear it.

“Oh, which one? This one loves to talk shop so feel free to cut her off anytime.” Lexa tries not to flinch at Costia’s words, feeling the confusion waft off of Clarke.

“Arkadia Books, it’s not too far from here.”

Costia turns to look at Lexa and Lexa pleads with her eyes. It goes unnoticed though, their silent communication skills another thing that has grown rusty between them.

“Lexa, isn’t that the one by your new proposed store?”

Lexa eyes Clarke. Watches the realization start to dawn on her face, watches her features harden and sharpen. “Excuse me?”

Costia laughs, clearly missing the tension or perhaps wondering if it’s all some sort of strange joke, “Come on, you know who Lexa is.”

Clarke’s back stiffens in anger and embarrassment. Her cheeks flush and her eyes blaze. “No, I guess I don’t.”

Lexa’s stomach plummets to her feet. The ease and light conversation a beautiful thing of the past. She sighs and looks down at the ground, ashamed and silly and sorry.

When she glances back at Clarke, the fire in her eyes as dulled to an icy point. A shiver works its way down her spine as she opens her mouth. “I’m Lexa, Lexa Fox. Pleasure to meet you, Clarke.”


	9. Chapter 9

Clarke’s insides squirm as she stares at Lexa.

Lexa Fox.

How earnest her face looks, how unassuming, how almost…sorrowful?

_No._

Clarke’s anger flares inside of her, white hot and blinding. She leans forward just a smidge to get closer, everything inside of her fighting to come out and unfurl around the party like smoke.

“Fox?”

Lexa nods, Clarke thinks she sees embarrassment creep into the stoic features before her. The plush lips she was thinking about kissing before the girlfriend bomb, before the book magnate bomb, turn down into a frown.

“As in Fox Books?”

Lexa nods, solemn and short. Clarke can feel Costia gaping at her but she doesn’t care. She feels like an idiot for so many other reasons, making a scene in front of this beautiful woman with her dark curly hair and dark sultry eyes as she hangs off Lexa’s arm doesn’t make the top five list of things that phase her.

“So, what? Were you just looking through my bookstore to see what you’d be able to buy in the closeout sale after you run us out of business, or sizing up the competition or what?”

“Clarke,” Lexa tries.

“No, you know what? I don’t think I want to know. Enjoy the party.”

Clarke storms away, hurt and angry and not sure what to do with how quickly their conversation turned from flirtation to a disaster so quickly.

Not to mention the fact that they’re both here with significant others, and Clarke feels ashamed in a strange way. Her connection to Finn has been fraying by the second, waiting for the final cut that will sever the precarious ties between them. But Lexa? Her girlfriend is beautiful, stunning really. And interested and attentive and…

And Clarke should have never even spared a passing thought.

She finds Finn laughing in the crowd and yanks on his elbow, pulling him away from the group of people and into a more secluded corner.

“Did you know that Fox Books was going to be here?”

“What? Where?”

“Over there,” Clarke nudges her head back towards the bar she just stalked away from.

“Whoa, her? Wow, I would never have figured…she’s so young and-” he stops and remembers who he’s talking to. “I told you publishing people would be here.”

“She’s not fucking _publishing_ , Finn,” she snaps.

Finn shrugs and swallows more of his drink, grabbing a stuffed mushroom off the passing plate. “Do you want to leave?”

“I do, but you don’t look like you give a rat’s ass.”

“I have to be here for work, but if you need to go and calm down or whatever, that’s fine.”

“ _Finn_ ,” Clarke takes a deep breath and thinks about the tentative truce they struck after she blew up in the kitchen. How they were going to try to be better, to do better.

It was a valiant effort, but it already feels like it’s coming up short.

“Princess, I’m sorry, but I had no clue. I know this has been a hard week for you and I know I’m not helping, but I _really_ can’t leave.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna go drink this off. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Xx

Raven opens the door with a grimace and steps aside to let Clarke through.

“I’ve got a bottle of wine in the fridge or a bottle of vodka in the freezer and half a pizza I was eating for dinner.”

“Sounds good.” Clarke doesn’t even hear what she says, she just throws herself on the sofa to continue stewing. She can’t get the way Lexa looked at her out of her head. Like she was silently apologizing to Clarke and chastising herself all at once.

Raven sits next to her and rubs her hand on Clarke’s knee. “Do you want to start from the top or?”

“Customer crush was at the party Finn brought me to.”

“Ok, I feel like you should be happier about this development, babe.”

“Customer crush is Lexa Fox. Of _Fox_ Books.”

“What? _No_.”

Clarke looks at her wide eyes, “Yeah.”

“So why was she in our store?”

Clarke shrugs and rolls her eyes, her stomach turning just thinking about it.

“Shit, Clarke.”

“Yeah.”

“Damn, I think this calls for the hard stuff.” Raven gets up and returns from the kitchen with the bottle of vodka. She pours two shots and hands one to Clarke.

“On top of it all, she has a gorgeous girlfriend. Like… stunning. She looks like a damn model, Rave.”

“And _you_ have a boyfriend.” Raven nudges her shoulder against Clarke’s, reminding her of the obvious.

Clarke scoffs, “Probably not for long.”

Raven’s deep sigh is loud in Clarke’s ear. “You haven’t been happy for a long time, after that fight you two had…”

“Listen, he was an ass tonight. Like, I get it. I was a jerk and I was pissed and grumpy and yelling at him but he didn’t even care that I was upset. He just kept drinking and eating while I was clearly shaken and…”

“And?”

“And, I was an ass, too ok. I probably would have done the same thing in his position and that’s part of the problem. We just _don’t care_. We are completely checked out. I’d rather be single than have to explain every time I’m upset.”

“Maybe you just get upset too much, Clarke.”

Clarke elbows Raven in the stomach and the resulting groan is satisfying. “You know what I mean, Raven.”

“I do. And I definitely think that’s a major problem. You two never developed anything deeper than sex, and when that started drying up these things came to the surface.”

“Why do you work in my bookstore, why aren’t you counseling rocky marriages or something?”

“Me? I hate people, remember?”

They lapse into silence and Raven pours them two more shots.

“I really liked her.”

“You liked the idea of her.”

“Yes. But… have you seen her eyes? Or her jaw? Or the way she smiles?”

“Can’t really say that I’ve paid attention.”

“Why was she always in the store? Why flirt with me?”

“I don’t know, Clarke. I don’t know.”

Xx

Saturday morning is slow going. Clarke and Raven walk arm and arm to the shop together, both groaning behind sunglasses and underneath beanies.

Clarke feels like death personified when Raven pulls her towards The Ground in attempts to get caffeine in their hangover addled brains. Clarke vehemently shakes her head and grimaces, choosing instead to further her punishment by opening the store and rolling up the noisy grate.

She almost throws up as her head rattles with the clamor.

The shop is quiet and the soft morning light that filters through the large front window always soothes her. She goes about her business for open and waits patiently for Raven to arrive with coffee and scones.

Her sleep was fitful, filled with starts and stops. Images of Lexa haunting her. Plaguing her dreams. Lexa with a crew descending upon the store like angry warriors, sledgehammers at the ready to dismantle her life’s work. Lexa with a cunning smile, curling up at her lips like a wily fox. Costia staring at her, laughing at her ignorance, shortcomings. Finn’s apathy. She rolls herself over and over, tosses and turns so much next to Raven she ended up on the floor and then the couch after a swift kick to the shin and shove on her shoulder.

The ache in her shoulder from Raven’s couch an aching companion to the pounding in her skull.

She still can’t wrap her head around all of it, and thinking about Lexa’s face as she introduced herself fully makes her stomach turn more than the leftover vodka.

She feels used. Silly. Wholly caught off guard.

More than once last night she thought about emailing The_Commander. Needing to vent, to organize her brain. The way her thumbs fumbled over the keys as she tried to navigate her phone told her to wait. To sort things out before unloading on her patient friend. She sends a quiet thank you to whatever part of her drunk brain held on to some rationality before making a fool out of her completely-unattainable-perfect-are you real or not real- internet crush.

Acting a drunken fool before her crush is the last thing Clarke needs.

The door twinkles behind her signaling an arrival and she turns around with a sigh of relief halfway off her lips when she startles.

Lexa stands there, hands clasped behind her back and weight shifting between her feet, a sheepish look in her eyes.

“Clarke.”

Clarke’s head pounds with greater fervor as everything rushes back up to the surface.


	10. Chapter 10

Lexa’s heart sinks even more as Clarke’s demeanor changes in front of her again.

For the second time in less than 12 hours, Lexa sees hope drain from the blue eyes before her only to be replaced with anger and disappointment.

“What are you doing here?” Clarke’s voice is hard, callous.

“I came to explain. You left before I had a chance to.” Lexa keeps her voice quiet and even, though the feelings and emotions are fighting to get out.

“No need.”

“Clarke…”

“What do you think you need to explain, Lexa?” Clarke crosses her arms and her shoulders shift with her defiance. “You came in here more than once, you got to know me, you heard my story, you saw my staff. Do you need to feel better about what’s going to happen to my shop now?”

Lexa steps forward and shakes her head, “I had no idea we were opening that store around the corner.”

“Bullshit.”

Clarke’s eyes are ice again, so cold. Lexa fights to hold them, even though she longs to flinch away from the glare. “Honest. It was leaked before I could stop it. The signage was up before I had a clue.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you come in here and act like none of it mattered?”

“I came here because Aden wanted to. He’s been coming here forever, it’s one of his favorite places in the city.” She pauses, not sure how to continue. “He…” Her voice cracks slightly and Clarke’s eyes soften just the tiniest bit. Her face more inquisitive than angry.

The door opening behind them breaks into the conversation. Lexa turns her head to see Clarke’s employee walking through the door with two large coffees and a pastry bag.

“ _Whoa_ …”

“Raven, could you put those in the back and give us a minute?”

“Sure thing, holla if you need me.” A weighted look passes between the two as Raven moves to the back of the shop quickly.

Clarke turns her attention back to Lexa and takes a deep breath. “You were saying?”

When Lexa looks up again she sees the girl from before. Not the disappointed, tired and spitting mad Clarke. But the Clarke who seems interested and invested.

It makes her heart stutter for just a beat.

She wants to tell Clarke everything. Unload the weight she carries on her chest just a little bit, but she can’t. Not like this.

“It’s an unfortunate incident, this store falling in your backyard.”

“You’re the one who can stop it.”

“You’re the one who knows I can’t.”

Clarke steps back again and walks away from Lexa, her hands pulling the beanie off her head. Her hair still wavy and soft from the party the night before, though mussed from sleep and the alcohol Lexa can smell seeping from her pores.

“It’s the nature of the beast, Clarke.”

It’s the exact wrong thing to say. Clarke’s body riles with tension and she whips around teeth bared and almost snarling. Everything calm between them dissipates in that instant and Lexa regrets her father’s words as soon as they tumble from her lips.

She can’t take it back.

She can’t take any of it back.

Clarke’s switch flips so quickly, Lexa would be intrigued if she wasn’t stunned by the ferocity on display before her.

“Then I guess this is war.”

Xx

“Lexa… you gonna eat or just keep pushing food around your plate?”

“What?”

Aden laughs and grabs a handful of fries off the plate. “Your fries are getting cold.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Then why’d we come out to dinner? We could have just seen a movie or played some basketball or something.”

“Alright, you know I suck at basketball ok so, stop with that suggestion, kid. And… I don’t know, I didn’t really think.”

“Dude, what is going on with you today?”

Lexa shakes her head. “Nothing, I’m just swamped.”

“I know. But that’s not it. You’re always busy with work, but you never look like this.”

“A, it’s fine.”

“Is it Costia?”

Aden’s question pulls Lexa from her frustrations with Clarke and Arkadia. “No. Not…not really.”

“She never comes around anymore, are you guys ok.”

“No, not really.”

Aden shifts uneasily in the booth across from Lexa and takes another large bite from his double cheeseburger. He’s still so scrawny and lean, she’s not sure where the food goes, boggled endlessly by the metabolism of the teenage boy he’s become.

“It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, I figured. Do you want to go to that arcade with the ski ball and beat me again?”

Lexa wants to, wants nothing more than to distract herself from the problems at work, but she can’t. She feels too heavy with all of it. “Maybe next week.”

“Alright, whatever Lex.”

Aden’s disappointment seeps into her, adding to the weight she is already shouldering. Her night could not have gone worse. Costia smiled at her, hung off her arm for most of the night, laughed and flirted. But Lexa felt like she was simply going through the motions, putting on her public face to schmooze the party goers and smile at Lexa’s jokes.

And Lexa, Lexa was eons away. Her mind was racing a mile a minute away from her. Bogged down with the shift in Clarke. The way her eyes hardened and froze, how the reveal of Lexa’s last name stung at her like an arrow.

She tried to push it from her mind. She drank, she laughed, she let Costia pull her around the party and introduce her to people with a broad smile on her face, proud of the woman next to her.

And in the elevator back up to their apartment, she shoved Costia against the wall with a hungry mouth and wandering hands. Needing to feel anything other than awful. Needing to connect with the woman she used to be in love with, be reminded of everything they’ve shared. Needing to be distracted.

Costia kissed her back for a brief moment, before pulling Lexa’s hands off her body, and pecking her cheek. Her tired eyes said more than her words ever could. Her hushed, “I’m exhausted…” a final nail in the coffin of the night.

Lexa didn’t even think twice about it.

It didn’t hurt as much as the way Clarke looked at her before turning around and leaving the party.

She doesn’t even wonder why that might be any longer. She already knows.

“Yo, earth to Lexa.” Aden snaps his hand in front of her face, pulling her back from her daze.

“Sorry, A.”

“Dude… you have _got_ to get it together.”

Her cheeks blush with embarrassment and she buries her head in her hands.

“I think you need to call Anya, I can’t handle this, I’m way too young for all your drama and I deal with teenage girls all day.”

Lexa barks out a laugh at his admission, and reaches over the table to ruffle his hair. “Just you wait, baby bro. You might think it gets better, but it’s only gonna get worse.”

He groans and she laughs again, finally feeling a little bit lighter.

Xx

She doesn’t go straight home after she drops Aden off.

Instead she moves through the park, quiet as a shadow in the lush greenery. The leaves and grass that will be flush with reds and oranges in the last minutes of life on this earth before they wither away and litter the ground.

She sits on a bench in the sun and watches everyone move around her. Finds a strange delight in how the creatures of the city move through the streets with eyes always watching yet paying no attention to anything outside their bubble.

It’s such a strange feeling. Always being watched yet not.

Her eyes follow the patrons of the park but her mind carves a new path. Thinking about the Fox legacy. How it’s been in her blood for generations. Running the store was always her path in life, whether she knew it or not. It wasn’t until high school that her father explained how much he wanted to leave it to her, how much he wanted her to carry on the tradition.

She already had it in her head to do so, formulated over AP economics homework late at night months before her father’s admission.

Legacy.

Blood.

It’s all Lexa has ever known.

Was it like that for Clarke? Did she grow up following her father around the small bookstore, offering ideas and suggestions? Watching and learning what it takes to run the business for as long as she can remember?

Understanding the unique weight that rests on Clarke. The way the legacy and family ties pull at her, always.

Understanding, more than anything, the depth of hurt and fear in her eyes and on her face this morning.

The realization that the development is bigger than the two of them staring each other down at a party.

Her fingers tug her phone out of her pocket and she opens up a new email, deftly composing a message to the only person she can even begin to fathom talking to about this.


	11. Chapter 11

Raven came out from the back after the door twinkled shut behind Lexa and took one look at Clarke before trying to send her home.

Clarke held steadfast, not budging. Accepting instead the large coffee Raven held in her hand and a pat on the back.

No words were needed. Not after last night.

Xx

The store is busier than normal for a Saturday. The news of Fox Books opening has more regulars coming in to show support, to bring people in with them and introduce the wonder of a small, locally owned book shop to new eyes.

Clarke’s heart sings with it all, but her bloodshot eyes and still pounding head make her regret not leaving when Raven offered.

She’s about two seconds away from punching Murphy and his snarky mouth when Raven pulls her aside and asks her to pick up lunch. All too used to the glare she gets on her face when she’s about to lose it, she throws money at Clarke and nudges her towards the door. Clarke just nods and grabs her bag from the back.

There’s a new email waiting in her inbox, and not for the first time Clarke wonders if perhaps the mystical Commander knows just when she needs a pick me up. Or, if it’s all just coincidence. She doesn’t read it until she’s waiting for her food to be ready, off to the side of the bustling deli and craving salty fries like never before.

_I’m sitting in the park and thinking about how everyone in this city just goes about their business all the time. All the millions of us who fill the streets and skyscrapers. And there’s always someone watching, but who is paying attention? No one really. I don’t remember anyone I see on the street after I walk by. How weird is that? How many people see me, see you, on a daily basis and don’t even register us as anything more than bodies moving through space? It’s…_

_What do you do when you’ve hurt someone? Unintentionally. In such a large way you’re not sure if the canyon will ever be bridged. I know, it sounds silly to say it was unintentional, but… if you knew the case… if you knew everything, you’d agree. I’m not trying to save face by the way, I am not a person who denies my mistakes or wrongdoing. I just. This situation is completely out of my control and I hate it. And I hurt someone. Someone who probably understands what my life feels like in a way not many do._

_I know I’m completely rambling in a way that is unbecoming and totally not me. I’m rattled. Rattled by how easily things spiraled. Rattled by how inconsequential everything is and yet it’s not. Rattled by how simply my relationship has crumbled and fallen to the wayside._

_I am hoping that you, gracious Wanheda, may have some answers. Some advice. Some insight into this mess we call life. You are the only one I even want to trust with this problem. You, the person on the other side of the screen, running around in your own life and dealing with things that are entirely your own. You, the one who has offered me a different way to think about things for months now._

_Just… you._

It stuns Clarke.

The open and honest words on the page.

She can feel the confusion and pain so clearly.

“Griffin! Order up!” A gruff voice pulls her away from the screen and she throws a tip in the jar at the end of the counter before fighting through the line out the door.

She thinks about her response all the way back to Arkadia.

Xx

“Ok, seriously, you need to go. This isn’t even a hangover at this point, Griff… this is some serious blues you’re working on.”

Raven quietly shuts the door to the office and hops up on the desk next to Clarke. Clarke swivels in her chair and hastily minimizes the window before her, the one with the blank reply still staring her in the face.

“You’re starting to scare me now.”

“Yeah. Sorry… I… uh…. I don’t even know.” Clarke messes with her hair and rubs her eyes and doesn’t even know where to start.

“Is this about Lexa?”

“Yes. No.” Clarke sighs, “Yes. Some of it.”

“Ok, and what’s the other some of it?”

“Honestly, Rave it is kind of never ending at this point.”

“Listen, I love you. You’re my girl and you are very clearly going through some shit right now and I respect it. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but Clarke? You are in control of some of this and it’s time you woman-ed up and took care of some business.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you?”

Clarke sees the earnest way Raven looks at her. The worry on her face, the love. “I do. I’m sorry I’m such a fucking buzzkill today.”

“Please don’t even start with that.” Raven hops off the table and hugs Clarke from behind. “But, you smell like an old bar and your eyes are still red and puffy so, like, I’d appreciate it if you got out of here. I kind of already want to puke and smelling you just makes it so much worse.”

Xx

Clarke types out a response on her way home. Quick. The only thing she can think of. It’s not much. It’s not anything at all.

It’s probably not enough.

But.

That’s it.

_Make it right. Or walk away._

Xx

Finn finally gathers all of his belongings out of Clarke’s apartment eleven days after the disastrous party. The last ditch attempt at a fun date night. The last ditch attempt at reconnecting.

Clarke thought it would hurt more, but she only feels relief.

Like she can breathe again.

He’s not even a ghost in her hallways, it’s like he was never there.

Fox Books fever picks up around the city and follows Clarke like a black cloud over her head. It’s the first Fox Books that will open in over two years, and it’s being touted as the new flagship store. State of the art everything, a corner solely dedicated to the city’s architecture, the city’s authors, the city’s history.

Her stomach works itself into more knots with every new bit of information, every new press release.

Lexa is everywhere it seems. Fox Books is everywhere. All of it, all of Clarke’s messy feelings and anger and anxiety are everywhere.

Weeks of all Fox, all the time.

Xx

Clarke turns on the television before hopping in the shower and groans, the familiar voice hitting her ears at the same time as realization.

 _Lexa_.

Being interviewed on Good Morning America.

She ignores the warmth that flashes through her body at the sight of her. Her long legs crossed on the seat, her low cut yet respectable top. The way her hair is curled just so and the color on her lips accentuates them without overdoing it.

It’s all… too much for Clarke.

She doesn’t want to listen to the interview, doesn’t want to watch Lexa’s excited face talk about her new store, about the company expansion, about anything at all.

But she can’t pull herself away.

Lexa’s voice is light and easy, her demeanor with the interviewer calm and collected. Like she’s an old pro at this. When she smiles, though, it’s not the same one Clarke is used to. It’s practiced, studied.

And for a brief second, a brief beat, Clarke wonders if she did catch a glimpse of the real Lexa Fox in her store.

Xx

She doesn’t see Lexa for weeks.

She almost wants to.

Just so she has an excuse to express some of the anger and frustration that’s begun winding it’s way through her blood, building up within her.

Aden stops coming in.

Shipments of _Natblida_ come weekly but the boy doesn’t walk through the door. She asked Monty if he’d been by in the evenings but Monty shakes his head and flips through the newest release.

It might be better this way, not seeing him. Not allowing him to be another thing that reminds her of Lexa.

Xx

_It’s fall again which means I’m aching to read something new and wonderful with a big cup of coffee and a warm sweater just sitting in the park with the sun and the words. But I always feel myself drawn back to the same book. Every fall.  I’ve read it so many times now, it’s words a soothing comfort to my soul. Old friends that grace my eyes and live in my brain and my heart._

_I love this time of year. The crisp air, the heavy brooding clouds that swarm over the city. The way everyone starts to hunker down for winter. The darkness that comes earlier and earlier every day, the rich colors, the wind that takes the leaves away and blows through the city like it’s last day of vacation._

_I know you’re busy. I know you’re stressed with work and whatever else you have going on, but I hope you take a moment tonight to sit and listen to the way the rain is pattering on the windows. To smell the rich earth underneath the city._

_Because it finally, finally, doesn’t smell like hot garbage._

_And your Yankees are probably going to let you down in the playoffs, can’t believe they scraped in at the last second. But, perhaps, your Jets will get a win this weekend. Then again, they’re playing the Pats so…. Better luck next week._

Clarke sighs as she hits send. Glad that their emails have gone back to normal after the dip into heavy reality. The light joking banter is back, but there’s a new stillness to the words between them. A new layer that wasn’t there before.

She likes it.

It makes this thing… whatever it is… feel more real.

For whatever it’s worth.

And it is the one bright spot in the middle of the dark clouds.


	12. Chapter 12

Wanheda’s response is so simple, so to the point, that it sears into Lexa.

_Make it right. Or walk away._

She places her phone back on the table in front of her and sighs. Pushing Clarke and Arkadia far from her mind. Choosing in that instant to walk away, focus on her plan, her store, her life here and now.

She can’t undo what has already been done.

It doesn’t do anyone any good to dwell.

Xx

In a strange turn of events that Lexa never saw coming, Costia is the one to break it off. She strolls into Lexa’s office the day after her trial concludes and places her keys on Lexa’s desk. Kissing her cheek and closing her stunned mouth.

“It’s time, Lexa.”

Lexa swallows, “Yeah. I know.”

“I hope you find happiness. I want that so deeply for you.”

“You too, you too.” Lexa nods and kisses her sweetly on the lips, standing and walking her out.

A storm of emotions rolls through her as she shuts her office door. Relief, regret, fondness.

It’s all outside the realm of anything Lexa can comprehend or unpack. Not yet. Costia saved her the time and effort of figuring out just how to break up, but she’s not sure why she was so caught off guard.

Especially not after the night of the party.

Not after Costia didn’t kiss her before falling asleep like always, not after she turned away and curled into her pillow on the other side of the large bed.

She waited politely through Costia’s trial.

Turning over ideas in her head. Ignoring the possibilities, the reality of the situation. Emailing Wanheda with more and more frequency. Feeling calmer with her words on the screen before her than with anything else.

She knows the apartment will look no different without Costia there. The second closet will be empty, there will be fewer shoes by the door, there will be books missing from the shelf, but… if Lexa is being honest, Costia has been gone for months.

Xx

Her calendar fills with interview after interview about the new store. The flagship.

She informs her father over dinner one night that they’re going to dedicate a section to the city. It’s history, it’s architecture, it’s vibrant artists and authors. They’re changing the mold with this store, bringing all new ideas to the table, making sure they honor the local scene.

She talks with the _Times._

She talks with _NY Mag_.

She goes on _Good Morning America_.

It’s a whirlwind.

It keeps her blood flowing. Her mind moving.

She doesn’t have time to think about Clarke. Clarke’s shop. Clarke’s crestfallen face. Clarke’s fury.

Except when it all comes back to haunt her at night.

Xx

_You can’t just simply write me that beautiful email about falling into your favorite book year after year every fall without telling me what it is. That is rude and hurtful, and frankly, I expected better from you. I am displeased. You better make it up to me._

_I also don’t even need you coming at me about the Jets and the Pats. Not when the Giants play them in the last game of the season. Could make or break it for you… that is, if you’re anywhere near the playoffs._

_Is it proper for me to extend my thanks and gratitude to you here for not blogging endlessly about fall and pumpkin spice and all that nonsense? Because let me tell you, tumblr, when I have the time to get on (which is only for like ten minutes tops and really not even that) is insufferable._

_However, if you do choose to confess your love of pumpkin spice lattes and all that is fall, I solemnly swear I will try my hardest not to tease you._

_Try being the operative word._

She sends the email with a smirk and gathers her things, ready to meet the construction crew at the new store. She swings her jacket over her shoulders and adjusts her hair, ignoring the way her stomach hardens and twists at the thought of walking through that particular neighborhood.

Xx

The meeting with Lincoln lasts longer than she would like, than she planned for. His walkthrough thorough, his concerns well thought out and detailed. Lexa takes notes and nods, conferring with Indra on what to do and where to go.

By the time the meeting is finished she’s running late for her next appointment and rushing out the door. It’s her own fault really, when she collides into someone on the street.

Her own fault for not paying attention, too engrossed in the messages on her phone screen. Too wrapped up in building plans and details and the entirety of Fox Books.

So when she looks up at the person scoffing at her, she is wholly unprepared.

Eyes narrowed, square jaw set angrily, mouth a thin, firm line.

“Clarke,” she breathes.

“You should really start watching where you’re going when you’re running out of buildings.” Clarke shakes liquid off her hand, lifts the now crumpled coffee cup in front of Lexa’s face. “Good thing this only landed on my hand.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Can I buy you a new one?”

“No, Lexa. I’m fine.” Clarke’s face is still cold and closed off. Her shoulders tight.

“Please?” The way she says it, soft and quiet, must pull at something in the other woman.

“If it will make you feel better about bowling me over, sure. I don’t want you stewing about this too, showing up in my store with a coffee cart and sad puppy eyes.”

They start walking down the street in step, “Whoa, I don’t have sad puppy eyes.”

Clarke barks out a harsh laugh, it stings at Lexa. “You don’t really know anything about yourself do you?”

She is angry and bitter and sarcastic and she should be.  Lexa can’t blame her, wouldn’t blame her. Understands it and accepts it, taking the jabs as they come.

Ignoring the pangs in her chest.

Clarke directs her to The Ground and Lexa holds the door open for her. The raised eyebrows and quiet smirk as Clarke passes through make her flutter for a second. She just wants to see her smile, just once.

For a reason that eludes her.

They wait in line, a tense, awkward silence between them. Clarke shifts her weight on her feet, her arms crossed. Lexa stands rigid. Unsure.

“I saw you on GMA.” Clarke breaks the silence first. Her voice almost hesitant.

“I was so nervous.”

“You didn’t look it.”

“I’m surprised you watched.” Lexa’s eyes drift to Clarke, notice the slight tinge of pink on her neck.

“I watch every morning.”

Lexa nods, “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been better.” Her arms finally uncross and she runs a hand through her golden waves. Lexa watches it with interest, trying to remember everything that stands between them. “Your brother stopped coming in.”

Lexa doesn’t stop her sad sigh, “I know. I wish he didn’t.”

“Yeah, well… I wish a lot of things, Lexa.”

“Clarke-”

“Don’t. I.. just, let’s not, ok?” Clarke cuts her off, final in her decision.

“Ok.”

They move up to the counter and Lexa signals for Clarke to place her order, taken aback when she continues with a gleeful look in her eye, “and a large black coffee for this one.” She smirks at Lexa’s confusion and shrugs, “I figured you took your coffee black, like your heart.”

Lexa can’t help but laugh as she hands her card over to the barista, “Or like my credit card.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and walks away, the hint of a smile in her eyes.

The air is lighter between them at the hand off station as they wait for Clarke’s drink. Lexa sips her black coffee with a smile, teasing Clarke even though she hates the taste of it.

“See, aren’t you glad I bumped into you? You got a free coffee and a chance to make fun of me all in one stop.”

“Yeah except my hand hurts from the hot coffee I spilled and now I’m late.”

“I’m am, too, so I guess it’s fate.” Lexa smiles at her again, not wanting to hide it.

“Better be careful smiling at me like that, Lexa. I don’t need your girlfriend popping up out of nowhere all jealous again.”

Lexa takes a breath. “We broke up.”

“What is it with everyone and breaking up? Is something in the air right now? I feel like everyone is breaking up. You, my friend Octavia, this… other girl I know, me.”

“You?”

“Oh yeah,” Clarke nods and takes her drink from the barista. “Long overdue, actually.”

“Same.”

“Really? She seemed so wonderful and you two looked pretty happy.”

Lexa shakes her head, “Looks can be deceiving, Clarke.”

“They can.”

Lexa wonders if Clarke hears how heavy her words are.

“Thank you for letting me get your coffee.” She holds the door open again for Clarke and watches her pass through before following into the noisy street.

“Just watch where you’re going next time, alright?”

She nods and Clarke starts to walk away before turning back around. A small grin on her face. The one Lexa wanted so badly to see. “Take care.”

“You too.”

With Clarke’s smile before her and the ease of her anger, Lexa walks away from The Ground feeling lighter than she has in months.


	13. Chapter 13

After their initial, literal run-in, Clarke sees Lexa everywhere.

In the neighborhood more frequently as the store takes a more solid shape closer to their debut. At the bodega a few blocks away, the one with the good flowers and the flavor of Gatorade she can’t find anywhere else in the city. At the movies, buying popcorn with friends.

It’s like she’s multiplied. Cloned herself to appear everywhere Clarke goes.

It’s maddening.

Frustrating.

Sets Clarke’s nerves on edge.

Raven listened with wide eyes after Lexa replaced her spilled coffee from The Ground. She smirked and winked and nudged Clarke’s shoulder and Clarke almost tripped her as she walked away, hating the gleam in her eyes.

She’s stopped telling her whenever she spies Lexa somewhere new.

Xx

Monty pulls her aside one evening as she’s getting ready to leave. “Clarke, wait.”

“What’s up?”

“That kid came back in last night. Right before close.”

“Which kid? Oh, _Natblida_?”

“Yeah. Aden.”

“Ok…” Clarke isn’t sure why Monty is telling her, but she is pleased that Aden has come back.

“He wanted me to tell you he’s sorry, and he’ll keep buying from here.”

She nods and warms at the thought of the unsure teenager, the way he stuttered over his words when he was excited and how shy he looked.

“Ok. Thanks, Monty.”

When she walks outside and around the corner, she sees Lexa getting out of a black town car. Her features frowning at her phone.

“Do you ever go home?”

She startles as she looks up, her face softening immediately. “Good evening, Clarke.”

“I mean it, do you ever relax?”

“No time.” Lexa shrugs and looks up at her with humor in her eyes.

“Guess it sucks being the big dog, huh?”

“It has its perks.”

“Don’t work too hard. Actually… no, keep working hard. Maybe if you tire yourself out you’ll make a mistake and I can swoop in and save my store.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about your store. Your sales figures don’t scare me.” It’s assured and almost condescending.

“Excuse me? How exactly do you know my sales figures?”

Lexa blanches at Clarke’s harsh tone but recovers quickly. “It’s my job to know the business. I’m very good at my job.”

Clarke shakes her head, trying to fight the anger she can feel building in her. “Whatever, Lexa.”

She starts to walk away but hears Lexa’s steps follow her. “Clarke, Clarke…”

“ _What?_ ” Clarke stops with a huff, turning her attention to wide green eyes.

“Listen, I’m not worried about your bookstore because Arkadia offers things I can’t. It’s local, it fits into the neighborhood, it has a passionate base of customers who hate big chain stores like mine. Hipsters who’d rather die than see another piece of the independent business get crushed.”

“Is that what you’re planning on doing? Crushing me,” she spits.

Lexa sighs and looks away, her face hard and her eyes moving, trying to find words. “It’s just business, Clarke. It’s not personal.”

Clarke steps towards Lexa, closing the distance between them, her blood boiling with anger and everything she can no longer control. “I hate when people say that. What does it even mean, it’s _just business it’s not personal?_ It’s so fucked. You know what, Lexa? It’s personal _to me_. This is _all_ personal _to me_.”

“It’s foolish to think that way, Clarke.”

Clarke hates the way she says it. Like she’s patronizing her. Talking down to her, teaching her lessons on business and money. Her words land like a slap in the face.

“Yeah, well at least I’m not heartless.”

Lexa’s features turn to stone, unforgiving and cold.

“No, but you’re weak.”

Clarke gets closer, their faces almost touching. “Go to hell, Lexa.”

She turns and storms away before Lexa can say anything else. Can stop her.

Can look at her with those searing eyes like she’s seeing right through everything Clarke is.

Xx

_Do you ever find yourself so completely frustrated, so unbelievably angry, that you can’t think of anything to say? Or really, you can but you don’t, because nothing seems good enough? I’m not one that usually holds back. Like, ever. But I had the perfect opportunity yesterday to let someone really know what I think of them and I just… couldn’t. I don’t know what stopped me._

_I don’t know if it was the situation. Or if it was something inside me. But, the kill switch turned off and instead I just walked away._

_I keep replaying it in my mind, too. Every word I could have said that would have landed like punches to the gut, jabs to the jaw. I could have sliced and diced and cut down the patronizing asshole so easily._

_So why didn’t I?_

_I’ve seen people cower before me when I get that look in my eye. My friend teases me about it constantly, knows when she needs to step in and pull me away._

_What made this situation so different?_

_Anyway, I hope that you have some good plans for Thanksgiving. That you put aside your burdens at work and allow a moment of relaxation. To stuff your face full of good food and watch as the Giants blow up the Cowboys on their home turf. Think of me as we score our first touchdown. I’ll be smiling at the television and waving a turkey leg in the air._

Xx

Raven orders two beers for them as they hide in the booth at the back of the dark bar waiting for Octavia to show up.

“Did she say she was going to be late?”

“No, but you know her.”

“Um, how are things going… with that?”

Raven bites her lip and looks down at the seat. “ _Clarke_ ,” she whines.

“Am I not allowed to ask?”

“You can but like… Jesus this is so fucking new and I don’t want to scare her.”

“Octavia is not the kind of girl to get scared.”

“No, she’s not. But… you know how it is before any boundaries are set or anything. It’s just this _thing_ right now. It’s just this connection.”

“Rave, you’re an idiot. This has been brewing for quite some time. I’m glad one of you finally made a move. We had a pool going you know.”

Raven chokes on her beer and coughs for a few seconds. “What?”

“Oh yeah. I think Monty won, actually.” Clarke shrugs and sips her beer, the froth lining her top lip.

“Fuck you guys, what was the pool?”

“How long it would take her to kiss you after she finally broke up with what’s his name.”

“Matt? Zack?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Anyway, I had three weeks. Monty had 8 days. Murphy had two months.”

“Murphy is an ass.”

“Big time.”

“How much did Monty get?”

“Enough to buy as all drinks at the Christmas party.”

Raven finally smiles and lifts her glass to clink against Clarke’s. “Well alright then, I can approve of that plan.”

Her smile gets wider as Octavia walks up to the table and slides into the booth next to Raven with a big smile on her face. Clarke gives them a minute of privacy and gets up to get Octavia a beer and order some nachos. Her phone buzzes in her back pocket and she pulls it out, stomach flipping at the email notification.

The_Commander. Never disappointing.

_Let’s make a deal, then. Get some stakes in this. Giants win tomorrow and we meet in person._

Clarke’s stomach bottoms out. Falls to her feet and she almost drops the cold beer in her hand. She reads it again. Makes sure she saw what she saw. Closes the window and shoves her phone back in her pocket, before taking a large sip of the beer in her hand and turning around to order a pitcher for the table instead.

When she makes it back, Raven takes one look at her and laughs. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“Something like that.”

Octavia spins searching the bar. “Don’t tell me Finn’s here.”

“No. Just got a weird text, that’s all. I’m fine, really. I ordered nachos.”

“Babe, I thought you wanted wings?” Octavia looks at Raven and Raven looks at Clarke, willing her not to tease.

Clarke can’t help it, and shoots her a shit eating grin along with a wink.

“I do, do you want to go order some? Super hot, like, _super_.”

“You got it.” Octavia pecks her cheek and hops up and Clarke watches Raven’s eyes follow her ass all the way across the bar.

“Oh, you’re _so_ fucked, Rave.”

Raven laughs, “You know it.”

Xx

She doesn’t answer The_Commander.

Not until she’s good and drunk.

Safely home and tucked away in her bed.

She pulls out her phone and reads it again, letting the butterflies and anxiety take hold.

_Deal._

As soon as she hits send, the fluttering in her belly multiplies. She closes her eyes and lets the overwhelming alcohol in her system lull her to sleep.

Xx

There’s an annoying buzz in her stomach as she watches the game. A new kind of anxiety, different from that of watching her team play their rival.

She’s nervous.

Unsure if she wants them to win or lose.

The stakes so high, so…

She wants to meet The_Commander. Has thought about asking, broaching the subject for a while. Since she broke up with Finn and, if she’s being real, while she was still with him.

Mostly because this person, this pen pal, has become a huge part of her life. A friend. She wants to meet, to know her in person. To see if her jokes land as well as she thinks they do. But their emails have grown flirtier and she knows The_Commander was dating a woman, until they broke up.

It feels… different than meeting a friend.

She bites her nails as the Giants take a 17-3 lead into the locker room at halftime.


	14. Chapter 14

Lexa watches the game with heightened interest. Aden and her father shout around her, harassing the players on television and the refs, but Lexa just sits quietly with her hands clasped in front of her and stomach worrying itself in knots.

Dallas starts to catch up.

Dallas ties the score.

Dallas wins in overtime.

Her stomach sinks. She takes a bite of pie and savors the rich apple and cinnamon, mind running away with her a mile a minute.

She takes the plate down to her father’s study and opens his laptop, logging in to her personal email.

Her fingers poised over the keys, she takes a breath.

_I still want to meet. I’m sorry the Giants lost. Does Wednesday evening work for you?_

She waits.

Not wanting to leave without an answer.

Instead, she scrolls through tumblr. Taking the time to distract herself in the mindless way the website allows. Wanheda hasn’t posted at all today and Lexa misses her presence on the dumb site.  She reblogs a few things promoting Arkadia from its account. Her heart thudding as she does.

After a long enough time for the pie to be finished and the dash to get boring, a new email alert pops up.

_Yes. 7:30 at Pour Coffee?_

Blood pounds against Lexa’s ears. Her breathing quick and fingers tingling. She doesn’t even care if the response is immediate.

_Sounds great. Happy Thanksgiving._

She closes the laptop before she can do anything else and punches her fists in the air, feeling silly and ecstatic all at once.

Xx

“Ok, I’m going to divulge something and I know you’re going to have a field day with it. So, you have two minutes of laughter and teasing but then I need you.”

Anya’s brow quirks up with the challenge, she uncrosses and recrosses her long legs on the stool next to Lexa and picks up her drink, taking a sip.

Lexa gives her the time to prepare, taking a sip of her whiskey as well.

“Alright, shoot.”

“I’ve been talking to someone online.”

“Uh, ok?” Anya rolls her eyes, clearly expecting more.

“We didn’t meet on a regular website… I know a lot about her, she’s become a pen pal of sorts, I guess? We exchange emails and flirt and reblog shit on tumblr from each other. It’s… Ok anyway, I don’t know her name or what she looks like or anything.”

“Still not following, Lexa.”

“We’re meeting. Tomorrow.”

Anya does laugh. A full belly laugh. She throws her head back and savors the moment.

“Why on earth would you risk that? You’re not some average joe…. You have stakes!”

“I know,” Lexa groans into her hands. “What am I doing?”

“Hold on, wait… is this the reason you’re always smiling at your phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Lexa, how long have you been talking to this girl?”

“A…. long time.” Lexa shies away from telling her how long it’s actually been. The judgment already building on the stool next to her.

“While you were still with Costia?”

Lexa nods, “It wasn’t like that though. It didn’t start like that. It just… developed.”

“And you don’t really know anything about her?”

“I do, though. That’s the thing. I think I know more about her than a lot of people. She definitely knows so much about me. It’s easy to just spew into a blank page,  you know?”

“Ok, ok.” Anya finishes her drink and pulls the bartender over, ordering two more. “I can follow that. Why meet now?”

“Because I can’t get her out of my head.”

“Does she even swing that way?”

A shrug, “I’m not sure. I flirt, _we_ flirt. She doesn’t rebuff me. She knows I’m a woman, that I’m gay.”

“Where are you meeting?”

“Pour Coffee.”

“Are you telling me all this in case you don’t come home and we find your body mangled and mutilated on the street like this is some two-bit drama that’s trying to be edgy by killing off the successful, hot, lesbian?”

Lexa just glares at her friend. Holds her stare. Anya finally flinches and looks down at the bar.

“I want you to walk over with me, help me scope out the situation.”

“I can do that.”

“Really? In a serious way?”

“Yes, Lexa. Believe it or not, I can be serious for stretches of time.”

“I’ll owe you one.”

“Oh, trust me… this situation in and of itself, no matter what comes of it, is payment enough.”

Lexa laughs this time and Anya’s arm wraps around her shoulders.

“I’ve got your back, kid.”

Xx

Her stomach is in knots, unwieldy from the minute she wakes up on Wednesday. Even with Anya’s good natured ribbing and support, Lexa feels unsure. Unsteady.

And also excited. Ready to see if this person is worth having in her life, for real. As an actual being.

In any way she can have her.

She keeps herself busy at work, meetings and deadlines pulling her attention away from the mystery that awaits. The coffee she manages to choke down only adds to her nerves and she curses herself.

At two in the afternoon her email dings and her heart leaps into her throat. She keeps thinking the worst, that Wanheda will come to her senses and cancel. That this… whatever is between them… is enough. Is sacred and special and shouldn’t be tainted.

Instead, it’s one line.

_Are you nervous?_

Lexa breathes and tries to swallow. A little bit of relief claws into her.

_Completely._

The response is instant.

_Me too._

She sighs and closes her eyes for a second, her fingers acting of their own accord. _How will I know it’s you?_

This time the response takes a few moments. To Lexa, they could be years.

_I’ll bring my Giants hat and put it on the table._

Lexa smirks at that.

_Of course._

Xx

Anya is steady next to her. Chats about work, about the new author she’s trying to woo to her company. About her boyfriend. It’s all nonsense. Lexa loves her for it.

She talks and Lexa walks next to her, furrowed and nervous. In her head. Anya’s commentary a soothing jumble of words for her to focus on if she so chooses.

Not for the first time, Lexa realizes how grateful she is for a friend like Anya.

They stop just before the coffee parlor. Anya grips her elbow and doesn’t look away until Lexa meets her eyes. “Are you sure? Like, one hundred percent, I need to do this, sure?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Stay here.” Anya walks over to the window and looks in the shop, her eyes scanning. Her back straightens after a moment and a soft chuckle passes the short distance between them.

“Do you remember when you were whining about that girl from Arkadia? Clarke whatever her name is? And you stopped and looked at me, drunk and lying on the floor, and started ranting about how unfair it all was because, and I quote, ‘ _she’s so damn prettyyyyy Ahn_ ’. And you went on and on about her smile and her voice like the little gay nerd you are? And then you dragged me past the window of her shop to scope her out for myself.”

“Uh…” Lexa’s shoulders stiffen, caught off guard by the mention of Clarke before her blind date. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“Because, oh… sweet, sweet, Lexa… the girl with the Giants hat on the table is Clarke.”

Her stomach bottoms out and her knees wobble. “Don’t fuck with me.”

“As much as I _love_ fucking with you, I’m not. Take a look.”

Anya grabs her and pulls her to the window, pointing to the corner where Clarke sits, a Giants beanie on full display, the red and blue pom on top endearing and annoying. Her hands flit nervously around the table and her eyes move to the door every five seconds.

And Lexa,

Lexa can’t breathe.

Can’t even move.

Can’t grasp just how cruel fate can truly be.

“Well, shit.”


	15. Chapter 15

“We’re meeting.”

“Who, what and _who_?” Raven looks up from her plate of food, stacked mile high.

“The_Commander. We’re meeting.”

“Shit, Clarke… your little internet friend? Are you ready for that?”

“Nope.” Clarke takes a look at her plate, the food she was so ready to eat now turning her stomach.

“Cancel?” Raven tries to speak around a mouthful of mashed potatoes, but when Octavia sits down next to her, she closes her mouth and remembers her manners.

Clarke smiles, still not used to how polite Raven is trying to be in front of Octavia, even though they’ve all known each other for years.

“I don’t want to… I’m just, like, this is a _big_ step.”

“It is.”

“Or it’s not.” Octavia joins in and nudges Raven’s shoulder with a smile. Clarke wants to be annoyed at how good they look together, but she just can’t.

“It’s whatever you make it, Clarke.”

Xx

“What if you hate her?” Raven is dealing with the crowd at the counter, the Black Friday shoppers who have descended on Arkadia like hungry villagers.

“Then… I hate her? I don’t think I will.”

“What if she’s ugly?”

“Raven, it’s about more than looks.”

“Yeah, but, you like her I think. You always smile. You want her to be hot.”

“I want everyone to be hot,” Clarke shrugs. “I already know I like her as a person.”

“What if she’s a bald, old, man and you’ve been catfished this entire time?”

“Ok, enough about this. No more blind date talk for the rest of today.”

“Alright, Clarke.”  Raven shoots her a cheeky grin and Clarke sighs, it’s going to be a long few days.

Xx

“Do you have an exit plan in case this goes south?”

“Uh…”

“Clarke, this shit is important. I’ve been on a couple blind dates and you have to have a good strategy.” Octavia is as serious as when she’s working or when she’s getting bested at something.

“O, don’t scare her.” Raven tries to pull Octavia back into the booth, but she’s still leaning across the table and staring down Clarke.

“She’s not scaring me, Rave. I hadn’t thought about it.”

Raven and Octavia both roll their eyes and down two of the shots sitting in front of them.

“Ok, can we please change the subject? I’m so over talking about this blind date… I shouldn’t have told either one of you.”

Xx

Clarke barely sleeps a wink on Tuesday night. Her body buzzing with anxiety and a strange thrill. She takes her time doing her hair and makeup in the morning, throwing on seven different outfits before she puts the first one back on.

The one she picked out the second she knew they’d meet.

It’s simple. Her usual. Black skinny jeans, a henley sweater, her favorite pair of boots.

Her Giants hat sits by the door, ready to be grabbed and pulled down over ears in the late November wind, but she shoves it in her bag instead, too pleased with how her hair looks just the right amount of wavy.

To her surprise, Raven doesn’t tease her at all while they work. She gets Clarke a tea from The Ground instead of her coffee and buys her lunch and helps set up the Christmas window display without complaint.

“I’m gonna walk over with you.”

The clock has only moved two minutes since the last time Clarke lifted her eyes. It’s almost time to leave and walk over.

“Ok.”

“You’re sure, absolutely, positively sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.”

“You don’t think it’s stupid?”

Raven pauses and weighs her words, “No, I don’t. I think that you’re someone who always follows her gut and if your gut is telling you to do this, then you’d be silly not to listen.”

“Rave…” Clarke blushes.

“I mean it. I’ve known you for so long, Clarke. Every time you go against your instincts it comes back to bite you. Plus, I’ll be across the street at that weird ass bar in case anything happens.”

“Thank you.”

“You got it, boo.”

Xx

Clarke sits at one table and sets her phone down, watching as it shakes under her. Too anxious to deal with a rickety table, she moves to another open one closer to the back. From here she can survey the door and who comes in and out even better. This one doesn’t wiggle and she places her hat on the table and pulls a book from her bag and tries to quell her nerves.

Her throat is dry and her insides are squirming.

Raven gave her a once over and a pat on the ass before shoving her through the door.

The open book is neglected, every third word Clarke’s eyes flit up to the door.

A group of people walk in at 7:27 and none of them look around the cafe for Clarke. Her heart almost strangles her in her chest.

She gives up on reading and throws the book back in her bag, folding her hands on the table and fidgeting. Her leg bounces and the rubber on her soles squeaks against the floor.

Regret fills her when Lexa Fox is the next person to open the door and sweep inside the cafe. She has no way to hide, no way to look like she’s not here waiting for someone. Her book already too far out of reach, stretching for it will only draw attention to herself.

Lexa goes to the counter and orders something, smiling politely at the barista and throwing a tip in the jar. She waits patiently for her drink, glancing at her phone and standing there with her perfect hair and her perfect shoes.

Clarke hasn’t seen her since she told her to go to hell.

A weird mixture of shame and excitement take over and she forgets her nerves.

Lexa turns around with a large blue mug of steaming liquid and sees her immediately. A perfect eyebrow rises in acknowledgment and she moves towards Clarke. She sits at an adjacent table and sets her mug down, pulling her long trench coat off her arms and folding it on the opposite chair.

They don’t speak. Clarke knows she’s staring at her.

Confused and frustrated.

Lexa doesn’t react. Simply sips from her mug and goes back to her phone, typing away at something.

It stretches between them.

“Am I bothering you?” Lexa breaks it first.

“Yes, actually.”

“Why is that?”

Lexa tilts her head and focuses on the empty table, her eyes questioning and smirking.

“You always bother me.”

She sighs and smirks, “Good to know.”

“Why are you here?”

“It’s a free country. I’ve heard good things about this place, figured I’d stop by.”

Clarke grumbles a little, her eyes sneaking to the door again. “Yeah, of course. You just keep popping up everywhere I don’t want you.”

“Are you… wait, are you waiting for someone?” Lexa smiles, actually _smiles_ at Clarke. Teasing.

“Yes.”

“Oh this is good!”

“Can you not? Just… can you not be Lexa Fox right now? Can you be a stranger?”

“I’m always Lexa Fox.” She shrugs and Clarke hates it.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Apparently.” Lexa picks up her mug and sets it on Clarke’s table, sitting in the chair across from her.

“No, _no_! You can’t sit there.”

Lexa sets her drink down and crosses her legs and settles in.

“Did you hear what I said or are your tiny little ears just for decoration?” Clarke snaps.

Lexa’s eyes shine with another burst of amusement. “Listen, I’m doing you a favor. Is this hat your signal?” 

She lifts it up and Clarke nods.

“Ok, so we’ll sit here and pretend we are having a lovely chat about something. You can keep your hat out on the table and we can prescreen people walking through the door.”

“ _Lexa_ ,” Clarke whines. Actually whines.

“I’m a great conversationalist. Very well-rounded. I can talk about a myriad of topics, keep you company. Blind dates are the worst, you must be really nervous, you didn’t even sass me about that prescreen comment.” 

She looks smug and entirely too pleased.

Clarke just glares and crosses her arms.

“See, no. That body language is not good for someone you’ve never met before. You want to look open and friendly, not closed off and annoyed.”

“I _am_ annoyed.”

“Yes, that’s right. I just keep getting under your skin.” The cheeky grin she displays worms it’s way in more than her words.

“Is this a joke to you? Can you go back to your table now please? Actually, can you just leave?”

“Come on, I’m invested now. I don’t want to leave you hanging.”

“And I don’t want to have a first date with someone with you here watching me and judging me and just… being _you_.” 

Clarke leans across the table, trying not to raise her voice in her frustration but wanting Lexa to get the picture.

“What does that mean?”

“Lexa, seriously. Why would I want you here? I don’t even _like_ you. We’re not friends, we’re not anything and you’re here at this critical juncture and it’s like fate is laughing at me or something. Seeing you makes my fucking skin crawl, ok?”

Lexa looks shocked and sad, sitting up straighter in her chair and pulling back like Clarke just punched her.

Maybe she did.

For a second, Clarke allows herself to remember the ease of Lexa in Arkadia. The way she bent down to help Clarke stack her books and asked with quiet shyness to see the rest of the store.

For a second, Clarke allows herself to see that same person in the one sitting across from her. Reconciles the two together.

She blushes, “I’m sorry… that was rude.”

“Don’t be. That was honest.” Lexa grabs her drink and puts it back on the adjacent table and settles back into a new chair. “I’ll leave you alone now, Clarke.”

Clarke wants to say something. Wants to reply, to fix the way Lexa’s happiness faded but, she can’t. Doesn’t know how.

Doesn’t entirely know why she cares.

She checks the time. The_Commander is late.

Really late to make a good first impression on a blind date and a little bit beyond that.

Beside her, Lexa finishes her drink and grabs her jacket off the chair, picking up her empty cup. Clarke looks up at her and finds her already staring. Lips in a firm line.

She takes a breath, brow furrowed.

She steps away before turning back. An open honesty written all over her. “I hope whoever you’re waiting for knows that they’re missing out on someone special.”

Lexa’s words slam into Clarke.

Before she can figure out what they mean, Lexa is gone. Her coat sweeping behind her through the door.

The crestfallen way Lexa looked at her makes Clarke feel worse than being stood up.


	16. Chapter 16

Lexa wants to write.

Aches with it.

Her fingers drip with apologies and explanations that fall to the earth wasted away from keyboards.

The chill evening air bites at her cheeks, her ears but she doesn’t feel it.

Too wrapped up in everything Clarke.

Again.

Of course Clarke is Wanheda.

Of course the most excitement and potential comes wrapped in a bundle of a person who can’t stand her.

Only venom and loathing.

She thinks about the first time she met Clarke. The bright one in Arkadia, with the grin and the eyes and the hopeful voice.

How much she wanted to get to know that person. See her smile, be the cause of it. Get her to laugh that throaty laugh again and again. Feel the warmth she had moving from her belly to the tips of her fingers over and over again.

Clarke was immediately intriguing.

A force to be reckoned with.

Lexa felt a strange pull to her and didn’t try to shy away from it.

Aden was so excited to pull her into the shop. Share a piece of their mother with his big sister, finally get to show her something that existed only between him and mom.

He couldn’t even pretend to be cool, to pull on his annoyed, apathetic teen facade. There was this other sensation brimming over him, a lightness that’s been absent since…

Everything, _everything_ about this situation is tangled.

It weighs heavier on her chest than anything has since…

She doesn’t even know where to begin. How to apologize. How to explain. How to even fathom that the two women, the one in her head and the one in the flesh, are the same.

The same one who burns with fire every time Lexa is around.

It’s Clarke.

It’s always been Clarke.

Xx

Sleep eludes her.

Real, deep, restful sleep doesn’t come.

Lexa starts and stops, tossing and turning in her large bed. Clarke’s eyes burning into her. Clarke’s disdain spewing from across the table. Clarke’s hope draining from her eyes as the night went on.

That, that feels like a knife to the gut.

The nerves that slowly morphed into resignation on Clarke’s body, her hands no longer fidgeting on the table, her eyes not moving up to the door.

That was all Lexa’s fault.

But there was no other way. No other option.

Lexa as The_Commander would never have been received well. Not yet. Not in this tenuous climate between them.

It would have been the end of everything before it even began.

No, Lexa knows she’s right.

Knows that the stand up is easy to fix. Easier to apologize for.

Easier to explain.

If only she can figure out how.

What can you say to the girl you disappointed not once, but twice just by being exactly who you are?

What can you say when you know the exact, precise look of disappointment and heartbreak that settled on her beautiful features. The look that still burned Lexa’s memory, bright and unwavering from the night of the party.

Xx

“I hate everything.”

“Come on, it can’t have been that bad.”

“Ahn,” Lexa sighs, unsure of where to start.

“Did you at least come up with a good excuse?”

“No… I don’t even know where to start.”

“Lexa, you’re gonna blow this.”

“Aren’t you listening to me, Anya? There’s no _this_ to blow. It’s all… fucked.”

“I know you don’t believe that. If you did, you wouldn’t be calling me to whine.”

Lexa grinds her teeth, happy Anya isn’t here to see how true her words are.

“Don’t be an asshat. I know that’s like your go-to these days, but I saw how nervous you were when you talked about this internet whatever she is and then I saw how nervous you got when I said Clarke’s name outside the restaurant. You can’t hide this shit from me, I have a sixth-sense. Come up with a good apology. Use it. Try to salvage what you can or regret it forever.”

“I actually hate you.”

“You don’t. Now, can I go back to sleep?”

Lexa doesn’t answer, just simply ends the call and tosses her phone across the bed with a huff.

Her laptop screen teases her. Blank and blinding in the dark room. The document started an hour ago. So many beginnings deleted away. So many words floating around her head.

Clarke’s words ringing in her ears: _I don’t even like you. Seeing you makes my fucking skin crawl. Can you not be Lexa Fox right now?_

And that’s just the problem, isn’t it.

She’s always Lexa Fox.

Even when she’s The_Commander.

She closes the laptop and slides into her sheets again, too overwhelmed to do anything else.

Xx

It’s Wanheda who breaks the silence first.

An email arrived at 1:32 AM. Fresh and heavy in her inbox.

Lexa can’t breathe, her blood pounding in her ears and her stomach turning.

This is it.

This is the brushoff.

And it’s her own fucking fault.

_I don’t know what happened tonight. I don’t know if you got cold feet or got busy with work or got hit by a bus. I don’t know._

_I do know that I waited for you. I waited at a little table in the back of the cafe and watched the door. I waited. Alone for the most part, until an acquaintance of mine sat at the table to keep me company while I waited._

_I don’t know if you saw her sitting there and decided to walk away. I don’t know if you thought I was playing you, or lying to you._

_But, she’s not you. And she was just… there._

_Maybe we put too many expectations on this thing. Maybe we got too used to the daily presence of these emails and these conversations that we decided to fly too close to the sun. To see if we could bring this into reality. But, maybe it’s not supposed to be real._

_Maybe it’s supposed to be a dream. An alternate version of reality. A place for us to log in and see a version of each other that no one else sees. One that is truthful and honest in a way humans shy away from._

_This form of communication, these emails and jokes and reblogs and memes, make it easy. Make it easy to talk about nothing and everything. Make the big things we share seem little. Span the space and time between us and connecting us in a very real way. A very real way that seems all too breakable in the harsh light of day._

_So, I don’t know where you were or what happened last night. I don’t know if we are through. I don’t know anything other than all of this… all of this nothing, has meant more to me than so many somethings._

_So, thank you for that._

Lexa’s heart finds new life with Clarke’s words.

She can feel the emotion pouring from the screen. Can see Clarke’s furrowed brow and frown as she sat and typed it. The way her eyes change into a deeper blue with the weight of her feelings.

The way they did right before she unleashed on Lexa.

She scrolls back up to the beginning and her eyes stick on one line. One perfect line that gives her hope. Gives her a chance.

_But she’s not you._

Except that she is.

And that, that is a whole new mountain to climb.

There’s potential with Clarke.

Has been since day one. Since her first foray into the small bookshop tucked away from the hustle of the city.

Even Clarke’s disdain and frustration reeks of potential.

She doesn’t greet Lexa with apathy.

With the willful disregard of a stranger. Of someone she doesn’t like or want to know.

No.

Her actions are mired in the opposite.

In the full, deep, extent of caring.

Somehow, somewhere.

She wants Lexa to see how annoyed she is, how frustrated. Wants Lexa to know her displeasure.

Instead of throwing it away. Ignoring Lexa and everything she comes with.

It reels her back from the edge.

Issues a challenge.

She can fix this. Work with it.

Show her true self, the one without all the titles and responsibilities, to Clarke.

Hope that Clarke sees it.

Hope that Clarke softens.

First things first, patching things up as The_Commander.

She stares at the blank document and thinks about all the things that flitted through her mind on her walk home.

Waiting for the right beginning. The right words.


	17. Chapter 17

Clarke thinks about going to the bar. Sitting on a stool with Raven and shoving alcohol down her throat until the brush off doesn’t hurt anymore. **  
**

She thinks about it.

About how Raven will nudge her shoulder and smile and joke and try to make her feel better but she’ll still feel hollow inside.

She pulls her Giants hat over her ears instead, locking out the cold wind. Locking out the noise of the city and turns towards home.

Why _Lexa_?

Why Lexa _tonight_? At this place?

Of all the places in the city.

Why?

Why does she always pop up, why does Clarke’s attention always go straight to her. Like a magnet. Like an annoying magnet that she cannot shake off.

Lexa Fox is frustrating. Maddening. Unbelievably smart and beautiful and graceful in a manner Clarke will never be.

Her eyes sparkle when she’s teasing. Her lips quirk up in a half grin, like only she understands the joke.

She’s everything Clarke would be drawn to, is sort of drawn to already, until Clarke remembers everything else about her.

Her job.

Her name.

Her new superstore around the corner from Arkadia.

And, really, just fuck it all.

She wonders if The_Commander saw them, sitting at the table. Saw Lexa’s relaxed confidence in the seat across from hers. How it probably looked like a date.

Even though Clarke was trying her best to get her to leave.

And, really, it’s just another thing that annoys her about Lexa Fox.

That she ruined what could possibly have been something good. Something amazing.

Something that she might not be able to salvage.

Xx

No new emails wait for her.

No apologies or excuses.

No last minute work deadlines or emergencies.

Nothing.

Just all the read correspondence between them. The_Commander the most frequent name in her inbox.

Clarke thinks about sending her something. Tries to come up with a good explanation for why another woman was sitting at the table with her. Laughing and smiling at her like… like…

Ugh. Lexa.

It’s all too confusing. Clarke shuts her laptop and washes her face. She stares at the closed computer again until she shakes her head and pulls back the quilt on her bed, picks up her book. Distraction so easy to come by and yet, her mind keeps swimming back to the coffee shop.

To Lexa’s resignation.

The way she spoke so softly, so quietly as she left.

The honesty of her words only now fully realized, pushed from her brain in the haste to leave. To get home and forget being stood up and forget Raven’s texts on her phone and forget everything about the evening.

_I hope whoever you’re waiting for knows that they’re missing out on someone special_

She can’t figure it out, and the puzzle of it is just…

So fucking Lexa.

Xx

After an hour of staring at the ceiling, Clarke feels the words weigh on her. Drip down to her fingers and itch to get out.

She opens the computer and her fingers move before her brain fully catches up.

A read over, and then she sends it.

Feeling better.

Feeling worse.

Xx

“She didn’t show.”

“Oh… Clarke.”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, I thought maybe you weren’t texting back because it went really well and you were getting laid.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and Raven just shrugs her shoulder. “Rave…”

“Stranger things have happened, Clarkey. Are you ok?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Did she at least tell you why she didn’t show. Offer any kind of lame excuse?”

“My inbox was empty when I got home. I actually… sent her something trying to explain… _Ugh_ , ok, so, she didn’t show but guess who did?”

Raven’s eyes narrow, “I’m not going to like this am I?”

“You might, actually. So I’m waiting for her to come in and I’m looking up at the door like an ass every four seconds and in walks Lexa, swooping in with her long coat and her hair all relaxed and nonchalant.”

“Clarke…”

“Oh, it gets better, Rave. She fucking sits at the table _next to mine_ and drinks her coffee, asking me questions until she moves to sit at my table, making herself comfortable.”

“Uh, for how long?”

“Maybe like ten minutes. I finally got her to move but then I was worried that maybe my blind date saw her sitting there and misread the situation so… I went home and emailed her.”

“This is… wow… um….ok, I need a second.”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, so wait.” Raven is bewildered. “Your blind date stood you up. And on top of that you had to deal with Lexa Fox annoying the shit out of you until you left?”

“Yep. That was my night in a nutshell.”

“Jesus.”

“Oh yeah.” Clarke laughs, “She actually left first. I was super rude to her and she actually got up and left.”

“What did you say?”

“I don’t even remember, I just remember her actually looking offended for once and she picked up her coat and took off.”

“You landed a punch?”

“Second one, I think. Remember the time I told her to go to hell?”

“What made you snap?”

“I can’t explain it. She was being so… _strange_. Like, she wasn’t Lexa. She wasn’t all stoic, cold, business robot. She kept fiddling with my hat on the table and asking me questions about who I was waiting for and trying to make conversation. It was _so_ weird. I’m pretty sure she was just rubbing the whole thing in even more. Teasing the shit out of me.”

“You wanted her to, don’t deny it,” Raven says with a wink.

“Ugh, Rave,” Clarke groans.

“She was acting weird?”

“Yes. She was also getting way too much enjoyment out of my annoyance.”

“Hmm…” Raven stops and looks off for a second like she’s working out a math equation.

“What?”

“Nothing it’s just,” she stops and sighs. “This is all too weird. Think about how big this city is, and yet think about how _small_ it is. We run into people all the time. It’s like a cosmic joke. New York City… millions of people live here, but you’ll see the same few handfuls everywhere you turn.”

“Yeah, the irony is astounding.”

“Ok. Back to your blind date. Has she replied to your email?”

“Not yet.”

“Ok. What are you going to do if she doesn’t?”

“I said what I needed to say. I can respect if she wants to back off. I… I’ll figure it out.”

Raven looks at her with a twinkle in her eye. “Fucking _Lexa Fox_ though,” she cackles. Throwing her head back as she starts to walk away from Clarke’s glare.

“Why does everyone think my annoyance at this situation is amusing?” Clarke grumbles.

“Oh, Clarke, you have _no_ idea.” Raven shakes her head and continues laughing to herself.

Xx

An answer does come.

Hours later.

Just as Clarke is packing up her bag to leave the store it comes. Her phone buzzing across the desk.

She suddenly can’t swallow. Stares at the phone for a good minute before finally picking it up, curiosity outweighing anxiety.

_I can’t tell you what happened last night. What transpired to keep me away._

_I won’t offer any excuses for my absence. No fanciful explanations or colorful stories. You deserve more than that. You deserve more from me. I will apologize for leaving you. For stranding you alone and wondering if I would be coming to join you. I am sorry. Truly._

_I had every intention of meeting you. Every intention of walking into that coffee shop and sitting down at a small little table and hearing your voice, seeing your face as you spoke. Putting a person to this internet entity I’ve grown so fond of._

_The fault is entirely mine._

_Please know that my duties have never weighed so heavily on me as they did last night. My job. My demands. My position._

_Please know that I wanted nothing more than to be sitting in that coffee shop with you._

_Someday I’ll explain everything. I only hope then that you’ll understand._

_Meanwhile, I’m still here._

Xx

Clarke ruminates on the email the entire way home.

The way the words seemed heavier than any have before.

The apology. Full and real.

The burden she feels The_Commander pulled onto herself.

It’s strange.

She doesn’t respond right away. Wants to digest everything it took The_Commander all day to say.

And, part of her wants to leave The_Commander hanging, even for just a little bit.

Xx

“Did she say anything about wanting to meet up again?”

“No.”

“Ok, did she say why she stood you up.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and steps out of the way of a man moving a lightning speed up the sidewalk. “Rave, I already told you… no.”

“It’s just weird. And her email was super heavy and sad?”

“Yeah, I’ve never really gotten that vibe from her before.”

“Strange, indeed.” Raven hums and drops her head to study the pavement below their feet. 

“Raven… I can feel your brain whirring from here.” Clarke grabs her jacket and moves her out of the way of the crowd in front of them walking at a snail’s pace.

“No whirring. At least not without my caffeine.”

“Yeah, I think I need something a little bit extra today. This is definitely fucking with my sleep.”

“Girls, man.”

“Seriously.”

They both turn down the street to Arkadia and see the signs at the same time. The big neon ones plastered all over Fox Books.

The big lettering announcing the open.

In one week.

“Shit.”


	18. Chapter 18

“So we’re good with our projected open on December tenth. Just in time for the last minute holiday shoppers.”

Lexa nods her head and points to the packets in front of everyone on the table as she sits down at the end of her presentation.

“Lexa, is everyone going to be ready?” Her father looks just the slightest bit anxious. It irks her.

“Yes. We’re staffing the new store with seasoned employees from other stores. Slowly we’ll start bringing in new people, but we want the staff to be more knowledgeable than usual. Especially with Christmas around the corner.”

The board members all nod, looking pleased to see a boom in profit for the last bit of the quarter.

“Well done, Ms. Fox.”

Lexa tries not to blush, to smile. Getting the store ready for the holidays was her main goal once it fell onto her lap. With extra time put in by Lincoln and the crew, she knows they’re ready.

“Thank you, Indra. We wouldn’t be able to do it without our crew who’ve been working tirelessly. They’re amazing.”

Xx

Anya is waiting for her in her office. Sitting comfortably in Lexa’s chair behind the desk, her legs propped up in front of her.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all, big shot.”

Lexa sets her folio down and pulls off her jacket.

“I’m here to drag you to lunch.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Lexa, I’m gonna stop you right there. You’ve been blowing me off for a week and I know you’re busy but you have to eat.”

“Ahn,”

“Nope. Let’s go.” Anya stands from the chair and pats her legs, pointing to the door as she waltzes out.

Lexa sighs and picks up her jacket, following her friend out the door.

They don’t go far. Anya leads them to the new Mexican place she’s obsessed with down the block and smirks when Lexa just laughs.

“So you just wanted an excuse for tacos?”

“Always.”

They eat and Anya tells her about a new signing and her boy problems and everything in between until it’s almost time to leave. Then she levels a look at Lexa and Lexa realized how foolish it was to think she’d get out unscathed.

“Well…?”

“Well, what?” She tries to brush it off. Anya is smarter.

“Jesus, Lexa. What happened last week with Clarke?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Bullshit, you called me in the middle of the night to tell me you hated everything over nothing?”

She shakes her head, “I walked in, got some coffee, sat down, annoyed her, annoyed her some more, got yelled at, then left.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I finally tried her patience enough for her to snap. It’s… whatever.”

“Ok, so she didn’t take the news well then?”

“I didn’t tell her.”

“Like you didn’t that night, I know… but you haven’t since?”

Lexa just stares at Anya, begging her to understand.

Lexa takes a deep breath and thinks for a minute. “I wanted to email her. I wanted to explain or apologize but, I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell her it was me. Not after what she said. I’m not sure I’ll ever-”

Anya cuts her off, “Are you still talking to her?”

Lexa nods, feeling chastised for some reason.

“So you’re just going to keep talking to her even though you know who she is like nothing happened?”

“I guess. I mean, for now.”

“Damn, Lexa.”

“Yeah. Who thought my love life could get more fucked up?”

“Do you like her?”

“What?”

“Do you _like_ her?”

Lexa feels it, burning inside of her. She won’t deny it. Can’t. “Yes. Very much.”

“Then you can’t just go back to what you were.”

“I can’t hurt her anymore.”

“So don’t.”

Lexa thinks about all of it. Hasn’t stopped thinking about all of it. Can’t seem to understand how she likes Wanheda even more now that she knows it’s Clarke. Once all the puzzle pieces snapped together- the uphill battle at work, the break up, the weight of expectation- it all made sense.

And it all walloped Lexa right in the chest.

“I’m trying not to. I need to make things right between us online though, first.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… I think I can make something out of this, I just need time.”

Anya’s face splits into a devious grin, “Atta girl.”

Lexa finishes her taco and rolls her eyes at Anya’s grin. The one that still hasn’t faded. “What?”

“I haven’t seen you like this in a long time.”

“Like what?”

“Smitten. Dedicated. It’s refreshing.”

Lexa just shakes her head and tries not to think too hard about Anya’s statement.

Xx

Their emails continue. Traded back and forth between inboxes and phones.

They’re not as deep as they were before.

Back to something light, almost superficial.

It makes Lexa ache inside, but she accepts it.

She knows.

Clarke took a hit.

Clarke has been taking hits.

If this is what will help, she will gladly follow along. Play her part.

Will keep talking to this girl who is fascinating and lively and wonderful, even with all the ire and frustration.

Clarke is…

Clarke is special.

Xx

She barely sleeps.

The opening of the store taking all of her attention, all of her time. She’s down in the building late at night every night the week before open. Talking things over with Lincoln, surveying that everything is where it needs to be, that it all looks perfect.

Nothing less will do.

Lincoln gives her amused smiles whenever she walks in after 7 every evening with coffee for him as they walk through it all. The design team has done wonderfully, and Lexa trusts them but she can’t stay away.

Has to be hands on.

Has to know that she’s done everything she possibly can.

Xx

On the eve of open, Lincoln shoves her out the door at 1AM. Won’t listen to her complaints, won’t let her be stubborn.

“Lexa, if you don’t leave now I will pick you up and drag you outside to the curb. Go home. Get some sleep.”

“Linc-”

“We got it. There’s nothing more to do. Doors open at 9 tomorrow… you need your beauty sleep.”

She scowls and thinks about punching him. He laughs again and walks away, checking to make sure she’s leaving.

And she does.

Her driver waiting outside, yawning when she slides into the back seat.

It’s only then that she feels it.

The all-encompassing exhaustion.

It’s almost over.

She just needs to make it to Christmas in one piece and then she’ll have two weeks of vacation. Somewhere sunny and warm.

Costia wanted to go to Costa Rica.

She sighs. This week would have killed them if Costia hadn’t ended things already. She has a new respect for her ex, her drive. How she used to pull hours like this all the time.

It’s an easy fondness that doesn’t ache.

It’s how she knows the break up was right.

There’s an email waiting in her inbox. The warm feeling that rushes over her is a bright spot in the storm.

It’s warm and witty.

Teasing.

Mostly back to the way it was before the date that wasn’t.

The car pulls to a stop in front of her building and she says a quiet goodnight to the driver. The apartment is dark and cool, a cave. Welcoming in a way.

The way that there are no expectations here, no questions, no people.

Just quiet.

Zen.

It’s been nice, knowing no one else lives here. She can unplug immediately, turn off everything. The noise in her head, the stressors of the day.

Sink into bed and dreamless sleep.

Xx

Hectic.

Hectic is an understatement.

Lexa’s been to store openings before. Seen many. Sat at her father’s side while he’s dealt with it, run the show.

But it’s her show now.

Everyone wants a piece of her.

Everyone wants to talk to her.

Press.

Friends.

Employees.

It’s…

Amazing and overwhelming and she feels like she’s being pulled in every direction and yet in her element.

Like this is exactly what she was meant to do.

Born for it.

Barking orders, organizing her employees, commanding a crowd. It comes to her easily, from somewhere deep inside.

Perhaps in another life, she would have been leading soldiers on a battlefield instead of harried employees in a bookstore.

The way her father is looking at her, with pride bursting off every inch of him, settles into her.

A warm fire that keeps her going.

Xx

She sneaks out around lunch. The crowds and the bustle getting to her fraying nerves, her tired bones. She needs to breathe. Needs to sleep.

Everything has gone according to plan and now is the time for celebration.

The weather is unseasonably warm for December as she walks down the street not knowing where she’s going. Not realizing that she’s just outside of Arkadia until it’s too late.

She stops, caught.

Not wanting to leave.

Unable to go inside.

The big, bay window into the shop is decorated for Christmas, a tree in the corner with old ornaments hanging off its branches. One in particular catches her eye. A small oval frame with two blonde heads looking out. Lexa steps closer to inspect it.

Clarke, buck-toothed and grinning. Small. Her hair wild around her face.

Her father, a matching grin. His hair darker but, she is so much of him.

An ache builds inside. A familiar pang of loss, regret.

The one she feels every time she sees a picture of her mother.

She knows Clarke’s pain. Carries it in her heart.

Has added to it with her actions.

A flash of blonde steals her attention away and she looks up. Clarke is walking out from the back of the store, her head thrown back in laughter. Lexa moves before she can be seen, before she’s caught creeping outside.

Clarke looks effervescent. Undaunted by the way things have just changed, how the tides turned when Lexa’s store finally opened this morning.

Lexa wants to go inside. Wants to apologize. Explain.

Tell her everything.

She can’t. Her fists clench beside her and instead she turns and continues up the street, keeps walking until she’s home in front of her building.

Stares at the box in the elevator until it reaches her floor.

She sits down at her computer and types out everything.

Everything she’s wanted to say.

Ached with.

The explanations.

The feelings.

The apologies.

All there crisp and uniform on the white background.

And then she closes the window and lets it go.

Pulling up instead the email from last night. The teasing one that went unanswered. Sinking into the familiar pattern of their conversation like a worn groove.

Deciding it’s better to work from here.

Slowly but surely.

Chip away at Clarke’s wall piece by piece.


	19. Chapter 19

Fox Books opens and the impact is immediate.

Clarke senses it before it happens.

Murphy thinks it’s just the newness of it all, rants that people will be back.

But Raven locks eyes with her across the stacks and shares the truth between them.

Arkadia never stood a chance.

They’ve been fooling themselves this whole time.

Xx

The numbers are lower than usual leading up to Christmas. Fewer people bustling in their store in hopes of finding something more unique than a candle or a gift card for someone they love. No one really asks for recommendations or for help flitting through the stacks.

A few of her regulars stop by to bring presents for the holiday. Cookies and trinkets.

It warms Clarke’s heart like it always does.

But the sad, melancholy looks in their eyes tell a different story.

Clarke sends everyone home early after the first full week of Fox. She promises that it’s fine and ok, that she wants to look over the numbers and go home early. Monty and Murphy are easy to persuade, not fighting like Raven would. Not reading between the lines.

Clarke watches them disappear down the street and ignores Raven’s texts to meet her at the bar. She pulls on her coat and grabs her bag, pulling the grate down and turning towards Fox Books.

Her feet heavy with every step she takes.

Xx

The store is giant. Enormous.

Wonderful.

Like walking into a dream.

Clarke gasps as she looks around, spinning to take it all in. The spiral staircase in middle of the room leading up to the second floor. The beautiful shelves lined with brand new books. The bustle of shoppers moving in and out grabbing last minute Christmas gifts.

It’s…

Overwhelming.

And real.

And beautiful.

She strolls through the store with a heavy heart and wide eyes. This will be it for Arkadia. She can’t compete, _they_ can’t compete. Her father would have known. Would have rolled up his sleeves and nudged her on the chin and said, “That’s it, kiddo.”

She feels like he’s here with her. His heavy, warm hand on her shoulder. Guiding her through the store. Pointing out all the new, wonderful things Fox Books has to offer. Even with the discounts, even with the sheen of corporate luster.

Clarke can’t deny it any longer.

Xx

The railing is smooth and cool beneath her hand as she climbs the stairs to the second level. The giant windows that line one wall take her breath away. Comfy chairs and couches dot the area, perfect for reading and lounging.

There’s a section in the back that pulls her attention. A section dedicated to New York.  A giant mural on the wall of the city skyline. She runs her hands along the spines of the large, glossy architecture books. Tears threaten and prickle at her eyes but she shoves them down.

Not wanting to break.

Not here.

She loses herself in the stacks instead. Pulling out books to study, flipping through pages and book jackets.

Hating that she can’t leave.

Not understanding why.

It’s quiet in the stacks. Even with the din of the holiday shoppers all around and the incessant carols playing on repeat. There’s a reverent silence that lives in between shelves.

Sacred.

As if everyone understands that the books must speak for themselves. Call out to those who are searching.

Ready.

She goes back downstairs and finds the small used book area. The one filled with first editions and unique books, for only the most special of book lovers.

A throat clears behind her and Clarke feels the presence of someone else. Probably an eager employee ready to jump to assistance, to make a sale.  

“Clarke.”

She sighs and shuts her eyes, feeling silly. “Lexa.”

“Are you finding everything ok?”

“I am.”

Clarke finally turns around. Finally looks at her. The sheepish way she’s holding herself, hands behind her back, relaxed in jeans and a sweater, her face open and shy. She looks so much like the Lexa that Clarke first met, so much like the girl who made her blood race with possibility.

“It’s a beautiful store, Lexa.”

She bows her head for a second and a small smile pulls at her lips. “Thank you.”

“You should be proud,” Clarke admits.

“I am.” She clears her throat, “Are you well?”

“Yes, yes I’m well.”

“Good.” She smiles again, this time at Clarke.

Clarke feels something inside of her release. A tension she didn’t know she was holding.

“Lexa, I’m… sorry. For everything that happened last time we saw each other. I was rude and stressed and, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Clarke. You were waiting for a friend, someone you trusted and I walked in. I walked in and provoked you.”

“You didn’t. You didn’t provoke me. I just… “

“What’s done is done.” She nods and backs away, giving Clarke her space.

“Lexa, wait,” Clarke calls after her, wanting to fix it. Whatever it is.

Lexa turns to her with an eyebrow raised, the unasked question written on her face.

“Will you show me around?”

Her eyes soften even more and her shoulders relax. “Of course, Clarke.”

Xx

Lexa leads her quietly through the store. A steady presence beside her. She softly tells Clarke about each section. About the artists who painted the murals on the walls, about the idea for the city section, about the wrought-iron spiral staircase that was kept from the original building and refortified here, in the middle of the store. How they worked hard to keep the integrity of the building, changing only what they had to. Keeping as much of the old structure and refurbishing it.

She answers Clarke’s questions runs her fingers along the spines as they walk through the stacks and there’s something so familiar and wonderful about it all. It’s easier to absorb everything with Lexa guiding her through this time.

“How’s Aden?” Clarke finally gets up the courage to ask.

Lexa grins, “He’s good. In his element.”

“Will he be part of the business, too?”

“If he wants.”

“Is it what you wanted?” Clarke looks at her, studies the way her face doesn’t change.

“It was. For a long time.” Lexa is soft when she looks at Clarke. Her eyes rove over her, acknowledging the things that are unspoken. “Is it what you wanted, Clarke?”

Clarke sighs and breaks inside. The ghost of her father lingering in the background. “I’m not sure anymore.”

Lexa doesn’t say anything else. She starts walking again and Clarke feels the quiet understanding fill the space between them. They make it back to the front of the store. The giant doors that lead back out onto the familiar street.

Lexa looks at her expectantly. Clarke marvels at how quiet she can be. Her whole being stills into something _other_. Her eyes the only thing giving her away.

“Thank you.” Clarke bows her head, unsure and unsteady.

“You’re welcome.” Lexa’s voice is softer yet. Curling around Clarke like a cloud.

Clarke makes a move to the door, ready to brave the streets and walk back to Arkadia. Something pulls her back. Something tugs and tugs in the way she thinks might only be associated with Lexa.

When she turns her head to catch another glimpse, she’s met only with Lexa’s small, barely there smile.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

It leaves her lips before she realizes it. Before she can change her mind.

She doesn’t regret it.


	20. Chapter 20

It happens frequently.

After Clarke comes into the store, she’s everywhere.

Even more so than before. When she was an angry ball of fire and still upset about Lexa’s true identity.

Suddenly, Clarke is all she can see.

The holidays sneak up in a way that is surprising to someone in retail. Wholly and utterly in front of her eyes before she has time to think or breathe.

She blames the store but, really it’s not work related at all.

It’s Wanheda and Clarke and emails and pretty girls in her store with big sad eyes and heavy hearts.

It’s…

Xx

She knows she’s yelling. Loudly.

In the middle of the sidewalk on her phone.

Profanity laced rants and growls leave her lips as she storms down the sidewalk. Her car pulling a flat a few blocks away from the store and her father swooping in to lead the board members through the Christmas walk through.

It doesn’t look good for her.

For them.

Lexa is fuming.

Until a gentle hand rests on her elbow and spins her around. Unafraid of the wild thing before her.

Clarke.

She calms instantly. Her huffs more controlled and her voice clipped.

She ends the call and watches Clarke shuffle on the sidewalk. Looking up she finds the Arkadia storefront behind her, Clarke’s keys hanging in the door.

Clarke just stands there patiently, watching Lexa come back into her skin. Feel human.

“Rough morning?”

“You could say that.”

“Can I buy you some coffee?”

Lexa wants to say no. Wants to fight it and run to the store and deal with the mess she knows is waiting.

But,

But, Clarke.

“Yes.”

Clarke pulls the security grate back down and gestures for Lexa to follow her. They cross the street and step into the warm, humid air of The Ground. The smell is heavenly, lifting Lexa’s spirits as much as the girl she stumbled upon moments ago.

“They make these really awesome gingerbread scones that you would think are gross, but they’re just… little pieces of Christmas in your mouth.”

Lexa feels a smile start on her face, watching Clarke’s eyes light up over pastry.

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“Like hell you do, you’re trying one.”

Lexa doesn’t even try to fight it, the determination already apparent and all over Clarke. They step up to the counter and Clarke doesn’t even have to spit out her order before the barista is writing it on the cup with a smile. Lexa raises an eyebrow at her and Clarke shrugs it off teasingly.

She orders a chai latte and Clarke smirks at her, “So, not black coffee?”

“I actually hate coffee, Clarke.”

She tries to deadpan, tries to keep her face from moving. But when Clarke lets out a bark of laughter her resolve wanes.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Indeed.”

Clarke shoves a pastry bag with a scone at her and lifts her eyebrows in challenge. Lexa reaches in and pinches a corner of it, bringing it to her mouth with Clarke’s eyes locked on her movements.

She blushes.

Clarke notices and looks away for a second until she’s back watching for Lexa’s reaction.

The scone is… a work of art.

She chews and Clarke’s eyes still haven’t left her face, a pleased look settled on her features.

“You were right.”

“Nailed it.” She reaches into the bag and breaks off a piece for herself, popping it into her mouth with a wide grin.

“Hey!” Lexa admonishes and Clarke nudges her shoulder playfully and it all feels too much.

Too real.

Too wonderful.

Xx

Two days before Christmas, Lexa hands her assistant a box of gingerbread scones from The Ground with instructions to deliver them to Arkadia.

She debates putting a note inside, struggles with it.

Decides not to.

Clarke will know.

Xx

Wanheda’s emails become deeper. More poetic.

Melancholy.

The weight of them and the missing person in the family photos so apparent.

The same one marked on Lexa’s own heart.

Aden’s mood has shifted considerably, no longer boisterous and looking forward to school break.

He cancels their sibling time for the first time ever and Lexa feels like someone is pressing on that scar with a fresh blade.

On his last day of school she sits in the car outside, waiting to see his strawberry blonde head start bobbing down the steps in the crowd. When she does, she steps out and calls him over. His face lights up with surprise and he slides into the car before he allows himself to hug her.

“Why are you here?”

“We’ve got a surprise for you today, bud.”

“Who’s we?”

“Me and Dad.”

His eyes bug out of his head when they pull up to a private jet at a small hangar. “Holy shit, a private jet?”

“Yep. We’re going somewhere warm and tropical. Dad packed your stuff.”

“Christmas on the beach! I could get used to this.”

“That’s the plan, we’re starting a new tradition.”

They get on the plane where their father is waiting and set off for their first family vacation since…

Xx

Lexa soaks up the sun.

Notices how her skin browns with the rays, darker every day.

Slips into the cool water and drinks from cups with umbrellas and relaxes. For the first time in as long as she can remember.

She feels relaxed and loose and unburdened.

Happy.

Her emails don’t stop.

They grow more frequent.

Wanheda blows up her inbox. Her replies coming quicker and flirtier than ever.

Lexa doesn’t even try to stop it, not with loads of free time on her hands and the exact color of Clarke’s eyes in the gentle waves of the ocean.

She grows restless and itchy after four days.

Her father laughs at her as he lounges back with another new book set to begin and a cold drink on the table between them.

“Not built for it.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not built for it. Like me.”

“For what?”

“Rest.”

“You look like you’re doing just fine, old man.”

“Yeah, now. I don’t have responsibilities pulling me back. I just have this book here, and my son over there on the body board and you sitting here with your tireless mind.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Alexandra, you’ve never been easy to read. But I remember how restless I got away from all of it.”

“I don’t want to be.”

“Someday someone will be sitting here with you and you won’t be. The only thing you’ll be thinking about is how nice it is to share quiet time with her and how perfect she looks lying in the sun.”

Lexa sighs and pulls her sunglasses back down. Her father just chuckles.

“You should go back. Christmas is over, we’ll be fine here.”

“It’s family vacation.”

“And you’ve been glued to your phone, kid.”

She blushes.

“Ah, it’s not work then. Well, in that case, you should _really_ get back.”

“Dad…”

“Nah, we’re good. Maybe we’ll even rent those jet skis Aden’s been drooling over.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, “Mom would have hated that.”

It’s out before she can stop it, can hear it.

Her dad just laughs, “I know. Boys will be boys.”

His eyes don’t hold the same hurt they once did and Lexa thinks that this, this is moving on. Being able to laugh without feeling like you’re going to break.

Xx

She lasts two more days in paradise before she listens to her dad and hops on a plane back to the city. She feels her skin settle when the familiar skyline appears outside the window.

It’s good to be back, to smell the winter air again after days in the sun.

The only thing on her mind is seeing Clarke again.

It happens a day later when she’s dropping off her clothes at the dry cleaner. Turning around to leave with the receipt in her hand and she walks smack into Clarke.

“That’s the second time you know.” Her nose is red and her eyes are watery, she looks miserable.

“Clarke,”

“Lexa. You look tan.”

“You look terrible.”

“Thanks, you really know how to greet a girl. Bowl her over and then tell her she looks awful.”

“I mean,” Lexa stops and gathers herself. “You look unwell.”

“Yeah. I feel like I got hit by a bus. Are you a bus?”

Lexa softens and sees mirth in Clarke’s tired eyes.

“How was your Christmas?”

“It was quiet. Nice. Yours?”

“Same.”

They both pause, seemingly taking stock of one another.

“Well, I’m gonna pick up my laundry so I can go home and die in my bed. I’ll see you around.” Clarke steps around her to the counter.

Lexa waits by the door, held there by something she can’t explain.

Clarke doesn’t even look surprised to see her standing there.

“Can I walk with you?”

Lexa doesn’t know why she says it. Her mouth seems to be running away with her.

“I’m perfectly capable of making it home on my own.”

“Yes, I know.” Lexa opens the door and holds it for her.

There’s an intensity in her eyes and a quizzical look on her face, but she waits for Lexa to fall into step beside her.

“Where did you go?” Her normally husky voice is even deeper with her cold. Lexa tries her best to ignore the way it flares down her spine.

“Aruba.”

Clarke sneezes and drops her bag of laundry on the sidewalk. She groans and Lexa can see the exhaustion all over her. She picks up Clarke’s bag of laundry and waits for her to finish blowing her nose, tucking the used tissue back in her pocket.

“Fuck this.”

“Being sick around the holidays is the worst.”

“I got invited to a fancy party tomorrow night, too! I love New Year’s.”

“Perhaps you’ll feel better in time.”

“I doubt it. Everything on my person hurts.”

Clarke doesn’t seem to notice Lexa has her laundry, just continues to lead her towards the apartment.

They walk in an easy silence, Clarke’s steps labored and her cough flaring up in the brisk air.

“Thank you for the scones, by the way. They totally made my week.”

Lexa blushes, happy that Clarke seems too preoccupied with making it home to notice.

“You’re welcome.”

“This is me, up here.” She points to a brownstone with a lovely stoop and flower boxes on the first floor windows.

Her keys come out of her pocket, spilling dirty tissues on the ground and she looks flustered.

“Take it easy, ok?”

“I’ll try. I hope I can find some medicine up in my cabinet… I can’t remember the last time I was sick.”

Lexa holds out the bag of laundry and waits for Clarke to take it. Her eyes grow wide when she realizes Lexa carried it home.

“Um… thanks. I’m so out of it.” She blushes and fidgets and avoids Lexa’s eyes.

“Anytime.”

Lexa waits for Clarke to climb the steps up to her door. Clarke flutters her fingers in a small wave when she closes it behind her.

Lexa feels the flutter in her stomach.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Clarke whines.

Not in person. Not to anyone in particular besides Raven who will shrug it off.

But she whines.

She writes a long email to The_Commander, drugged up on cold medicine and rants about the state of it all. About her horrific cold. About her ruined New Year’s Eve plans. About the fact that she didn’t even notice someone carrying her laundry until it was too late to do anything about it.

She feels useless and exhausted.

One dose of medicine left before she has to leave her apartment and go out to get more. Raven refuses to come near her and her mother hasn’t lived in the city in years.

So, she whines. And gripes.

To the only person who will listen.

Mostly because she’ll be trapped by the words on the page.

And partly, because Clarke knows The_Commander reads it all, soaks up every word she says just because she wants to.

Xx

The last thing she’s expecting when the doorbell rings in the middle of the day is for Lexa Fox to be the voice at the other end of the intercom.

“I brought supplies.”

“Lexa… I’m a mess. My house is a mess. Just leave them there and I’ll come down and get them.”

“Clarke, I saw you yesterday. You’re a wreck. Please let me up.”

It shocks her. Lexa on her doorstep is one thing. Lexa asking to help with actual words is another.

She contemplates it for a long moment. Thinking about the sinus headache that’s started to creep back in now that all of her medicine is gone.

She remembers Lexa’s soft eyes from yesterday, how she quietly carried Clarke’s bag all the way home.

“I’m gonna buzz you in but you need to give me like five minutes, ok?”

It must be the cold medicine clouding her judgment. She buzzes Lexa in the front door and runs around, cleaning all the tissues that have gathered on every flat surface of her apartment, folding the blanket she was huddled under, pulling a big, old hoodie on over her pajamas, gathering her hair into a messy bun and yanking down the one leg of her sweats that keeps riding up.

Lexa is waiting patiently, leaning against the wall in the hallway with two Duane Reade bags in her hands and a paper bag from the deli up the street.

“Clarke.”

“Lexa.” Clarke steps aside and allows Lexa to enter. To walk into her home and past her walls.

She sets the bags down and removes her coat, her long hair falling against her back in gentle waves against her baggy maroon sweater.

She looks like a vision.

Clarke’s heart stutters in her chest.

It’s definitely, definitely the cold medicine.

Not at all the girl standing in her kitchen looking like she walked out of a photoshoot.

“I got you some chicken noodle, it’s hot and smells divine. Also, I picked up some more medicine for you, and some gatorade and water. I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked so I picked a couple-”

“Orange.” Clarke cuts her off. Can’t stand the kind words pouring from her mouth.

“Hmm?” Lexa turns to look at her, her face so perfect.

“Orange is my favorite. Well, really I like the cucumber lime but I can only find that in one spot.”

“Orange is gross, Clarke. I refuse to buy that. You’ll just have to settle for fruit punch and arctic blue.

“Arctic blue isn’t a flavor.”

“Sure it is.” Lexa smiles at her, a full smile, and Clarke swoons.

She goes back to rummaging through the bags, pulling items out as she goes. “More tissues.” She tosses them at Clarke, who manages to catch the box at the last second.

“The kind with lotion! Bless you.”

Again, a genuine look of happiness crosses Lexa’s face. Again Clarke feels something inside of her warm.

“I also got you some sour patch kids and some mini reese’s cups.”

“Lexa… this is too much. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing.” Lexa waves her away. Clarke just sits at the table and pulls the soup out of the bag.

“Stop. You went and got all of this for me. I was dreading leaving my apartment and you went out and got me all these supplies. What do I owe you?”

“How about a cup of tea without you teasing me for having tiny ears? I can’t help how small my ears are, that seems like a low blow.”

Lexa levels a look at her. Joking and wholly serious at the same time.

Clarke blushes, embarrassed and also delighted.

“I did say that, didn’t I!” She covers her mouth, remembering that conversation at Pour. The way she unleashed on Lexa.

“You did.”

Clarke just laughs. Lexa fills the tea kettle with more water and sets it on the stove, lighting the fire underneath and Clarke keeps laughing.

Lexa throws her a spoon and Clarke eats her soup slowly. The hot liquid moving down her throat and bringing new life to her soul.

Lexa moves through her kitchen with ease, the box of tea already out on the counter. The honey by the stove. Clarke’s used mug already on the table. Clarke directs her to the clean ones in the cupboard.

They don’t talk.

They just are.

Clarke doesn’t know how it comes to them.

Like a routine.

How Lexa rolls up her sleeves and looks like she belongs here.

And Clarke just watches. And thinks.

How long it’s been since she stopped hating Lexa. How long she’s wanted to just understand her.

When did it all happen? When did the tide turn from anger to warm curiosity?

If it’s a betrayal or if it’s growth.

Lexa places the steaming mug before her and sits in the chair across the table, leaning back against the wooden bars, her eyes soft like they were in the bookstore.

“How’s the soup?”

Clarke just moans around another bite while Lexa’s ears tinge pink.

“That good?”

“You know it is, why are you asking?”

“Just making sure.”

“Right…” she takes another bite and smiles happily around the spoon.

“I remember this one time I was so sick. So sick. I don’t think I’d ever been sicker and my parents were at a conference and my brother was too young to do anything and I couldn’t even think about leaving my bed. My friend waltzed in with a pint of hot soup and I thought I was going to die and go to heaven it was so good.”

“What did you have?”

“The flu. Even my hair hurt.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to get sick like that.”

“We all have our weaknesses, Clarke.” It’s a teasing kind of whisper, but there’s something underneath it all.

“So you’re saying you’re not just a cold hearted business commander then?”

Lexa shakes her head solemnly.

They fall into shared silence again and Lexa’s eyes move around the apartment. She stops on the picture framed by the door, gets up to look at it closer.

“Did you draw this?”

“I did.”

“Clarke, this is… breathtaking.”

“Thanks.” She burns with the compliment. With how reverent and amazed Lexa’s voice sounds.

“Was this your father?” It’s quiet.

“Yes.”

“How old were you when…”

“I was eighteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. It was a long time ago.”

“It’s not…” Lexa’s voice wavers, sounds like it will break on her words.

“It was a freak accident. He was healthy. So healthy. Ran all the time, ate right, never really drank much. Never smoked. He was running his normal route with his best friend and he just keeled over. He was gone before he hit the ground.”

When she looks up at Lexa she sees it all there in green eyes before her. The sympathy, the empathy, the understanding. Lexa holds her gaze for a moment, before Clarke can’t take it anymore and looks back at the soup.

The way Lexa looks at her…

She fidgets and moves away from the drawing. “This is a very nice apartment.”

“It’s a disaster.”

“It’s not.”

“Why did you bring me all this?”

Lexa seems to tense at that before she shrugs it off. “It sucks being sick. It sucks being sick and alone on a holiday.” She pauses for a heartbeat.  “Honestly, I wasn’t even sure you’d let me in.”

Clarke sets down the spoon and looks at her. Really looks at Lexa.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

Lexa blushes again, sits in her chair like she can’t believe it.

“I think things got all… muddled. I think you and I have a lot more in common than we realized and I know I went overboard.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did, Lexa. I know I did. I get… When I feel threatened I get cold.”

Lexa doesn’t answer.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

She sets her mug down on the table and zeroes in on Clarke again. “Like you said, we have things in common. I think, with time, maybe we could be friends. I’d like to get to know you, Clarke.”

“Alright, one step at a time, hot shot.” Clarke makes sure to put extra emphasis on the joke. Lexa smirks at her and holds out her hand for Clarke across the table.

When Clarke takes it, something shifts again.

“Deal.”

Xx

If the last thing she expected when the doorbell rang in the middle of the day was Lexa Fox standing at her doorstep.

Then she really never expected that Lexa Fox would spend the afternoon in her apartment. Refilling her tea. Telling her stories. Getting her to laugh.

When Clarke yawns so big and large, Lexa looks at the clock and chides herself for staying so long. She gets up to leave, but Clarke reaches out a hand and grabs her forearm.

“No. Stay.”

“You need rest, Clarke. Sleep.”

“We can move to the couch. If I fall asleep, so be it.”

“You know, like a week ago you couldn’t stand the sight of me and now you want me to make myself at home on your couch.”

“I wouldn’t say that was a week ago.”

Lexa rolls her eyes and Clarke giggles. “Do you have plans I’m keeping you from?”

Lexa shakes her head gently.

“Do you want to watch old movies with me and then flip over when the ball drops?”

“Clarke…”

“I mean it, Lexa. New leaf, right?”

Lexa stares at her dumbly for a long moment. So long Clarke wonders if she’s trying to figure out how to gracefully dip out of the apartment in one piece.

She swallows and blinks, like she’s shaking herself out of a trance.

“Yup. New leaf.”


	22. Chapter 22

Lexa isn’t sure why she stays.

She isn’t sure why she does any of it. Or why Clarke even lets her into the apartment.

She is sure she was right though. Her instincts. Her intuition.

When Clarke grabs her arm and looks at her with sad eyes.

Clarke’s actions the day before and Wanheda’s email the previous evening solidified it in her mind.

To take care of this person.

This person who might not accept it yet, but who is hurting and alone.

And Lexa is the reason for some of that hurt, some of the burden.

And she sees how much Clarke misses her father around the holidays even if she tries to play it off.

So she gets soup and tissues and medicine and offers conversation and company.

It’s a step, it’s a gesture.

It’s accepted willingly.

And so Lexa sits on the floor in front of Clarke’s couch, leaning her back against it while Clarke lies down, sleepy but fighting it.

They watch an old movie and Clarke sniffles and grumbles behind her and it’s nice.

Quaint.

Full of so much realness that Lexa doesn’t know what to do with it.

She is sure that Clarke looks beautiful in sleep. Even with the red nose and puffy eyes.

She is relaxed and weightless and stunning.

Lexa watches the rest of the movie alone and savors the space. Takes in more of Clarke’s apartment, her eyes lingering where they had not before. There are pictures of Clarke smiling with friends. Pictures with her parents. A younger Clarke smiling back at the camera, her father’s arms wrapped around her. Books everywhere, of all kinds and genres. Drawings and paintings and pieces of Clarke’s soul on the walls or shelves and even the coffee table hidden under magazines.

She reaches and pulls one out from under the pile, the corner teasing her.

It’s a picture of a warrior. The one from Aden’s graphic novel. The warpaint familiar, the stance of the girl proud and strong, a staff in her hand and her feet planted in attack. Long hair whipping around her face. Her eyes on fire and focused.

It’s even better than the illustrations in the book.

Lexa is drawn to it. Cannot stop looking at it, scanning the girl’s face. Something itching at her, pulling at her.

It’s her eyes.

It’s _her_ eyes.

Clarke moves behind her and Lexa places the drawing back on the coffee table.

“Are you snooping?” Clarke’s voice is a sleepy mumble, half lost in the pillow against her cheek.

“Of course.”

“Find anything interesting?”

“What do you think, Griffin?”

“I think I’m going to close my store,” her voice trails off and her breathing is deep again.

Her revelation churning in Lexa’s stomach.

Xx

Clarke wakes up with a coughing fit and Lexa hands her the bottle of water on the table, startled out of all she’s been turning in her head. She rests her head on her knees and waits for Clarke to settle.

“You’re ok.”

“You stayed.”

“I did.”

“I fell asleep.”

“You did.”

“I’m a terrible host.” Her voice is ragged from sleep and coughing and her cold in general and Lexa can’t get enough.

“You need your rest. I can go if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“That’s the thing, you’re not.”

“Ok.”

Clarke smiles and stretches off the couch. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“What kind of answer is that, Lexa? Are you hungry or not?” She teases.

Lexa smiles warmly, “I am.”

“Chinese, Thai, or Italian?”

“Chinese?”

Clarke takes a menu from the fridge and tosses it over the couch to Lexa before disappearing down the hall. When she returns she looks fresh and awake and beautiful.

It takes Lexa’s breath away.

“Do you know what you want?”

She clears the lust from her brain and nods, Clarke picks up the phone and dials, ordering her usual and looking at Lexa with raised eyebrows as she rattles off her order.

“What do you want to do until the food gets here?”

“What do you want to do, Clarke? I’m the one crashing your sick solitude.”

Clarke blushes, looks shy.

They sit in silence for a beat, sharing the couch with acres of space between them, yet Lexa swears it’s not enough.

“Your mom?” Clarke softly breaks the stillness.

“Cancer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was fast. Over before we knew it. Aden-” Her voice breaks and she struggles to rein it in. It’s all still too fresh.

Clarke places a hand on her knee and Lexa feels it everywhere.

“Aden is so young and now he has no mom. And my dad is trying so hard but… I had a mom, you know? I’m trying to make sure he’s ok but he’s such a stubborn asshole. That was why we were in Arkadia that day.”

“He used to come in with her.”

Lexa nods, swallowing the frog that’s lodged itself in her throat.

“At least once a month. They’d make the trip and spend time together exploring the city just the two of them. It was hard for my parents… the age gap between us is huge, and he was such a surprise but they loved him so much. She wanted to make sure he knew that, always.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“The holidays are weird.”

“They are.”

Clarke’s hand is still on her knee. She rubs it gently up and down before stilling it again. Lexa doesn’t even want to breathe for fear she’ll scare her off.

“I wish I had known about all of it. I’ve hated this, Clarke.”

She finally looks up at Clarke. Holds the heavy gaze, full of empathy and sympathy and all the same things she felt when Clarke told the story about her dad.

“I know. I’m sorry, too.”

“You don’t have to be. You’re not at fault.”

“No. But this situation got out of hand… and for whatever it’s worth…” She shrugs a shoulder and scrunches her nose and Lexa wants to kiss her.

So badly.

“Are you really going to close your store?”

Clarke looks surprised for a beat, “Yeah… I think the writing’s on the wall.”

“Clarke.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said that day, actually,” she blushes. “Shit, I’m not even sure I should tell you this but… honestly, it hit home. I don’t know if I ever really thought about what I wanted to do. I guess I always assumed I would know, you know? But then my dad died and shit got real and I went to college and worked at the store and then I just took over from there.”

“What about your mom?”

“She’s a surgeon. She’s… just… busy. Dad was the unconventional one.”

“And what do you want to do with your life, Clarke?”

“I guess I have to figure that out now.”

“It’s brave. What you’re doing.”

“No,” She shakes her head adamantly. “It’s not.”

“It is. You’re leaving behind what you know. Or thinking about it at least. And that’s brave, Clarke. Going out into the void.”

Clarke blushes and bites her lip, flustered and looking at her hands.

And all Lexa can think about is kissing her.

Xx

They eat.

And they laugh.

And share take out boxes of food between them.

And it feels more couple-y than anything ever did with Costia.

Clarke makes her watch an old b-list movie about the zombie apocalypse and she cringes along with the blood and guts, but Clarke eats it up.

Nudges her knee against Lexa’s and smirks at her grimaces.

Lexa busts open the candy and spreads it on the table and they flip over to the televised events in Times Square. She pours cold medicine down Clarke’s throat even though Clarke pouts.

“But I’ll miss all the excitement.”

“No you won’t.”

“This is gonna knock me out, Lex.”

Lexa’s stomach flips at the nickname. “I’ll wake you up.”

“Lexa…”

It’s whiny and so fucking real and Lexa wants to kiss her even more.

“Clarke, seriously?”

“Ugh, fine,” she huffs and takes it and passes out in twenty minutes.

Lexa does try to wake her up.

Shakes her.

Calls her name.

Clarke doesn’t flinch. Just starts snoring gently, hand tucked under her face and blanket pulled up around her shoulders.

Lexa pulls another blanket off the back of the couch and tucks it around Clarke. Makes sure she’s warm and covered.

Clarke looks so peaceful. So happy.

She brushes a strand of blonde behind her ear and smiles.

“Happy New Year, Clarke,” she whispers, kissing the back of her hand before placing it on top of the blanket.

She shuts everything in the apartment off and wraps herself in her coat, heading into the swirling winter snow outside.

Nothing but happiness in her heart and a smile on her face.

She can’t remember a more satisfying New Year’s Eve.


	23. Chapter 23

The next two weeks pass in a blur, winter storms and cold frost descend on the city like they were waiting for the holidays to pass. Icy grip takes hold and doesn’t let go, wind howling through the tunneled streets and into cracks in apartment windows.

It causes Arkadia to take another hit.

The business slowing to a crawl in the cold. In the aftermath of Fox Books.

Clarke thinks about her decision more and more, waiting to see if something will change. If the shine of the big store will wear off.

But something grips at her, too.

Possibility.

The big open nothing that lays beyond Arkadia’s walls. A forest waiting to be navigated.

Since she woke up on New Year’s Day safely tucked on the couch under extra blankets with water and cough drops next to her everything changed.

It took her a minute to remember why she didn’t crawl into bed.

_Lexa_.

A fondness creeps through her.

A fondness she doesn’t really want to fight anymore, but one that still feels foreign. Still new. Too early to be fully tested, accepted.

They haven’t seen each other since.

Lexa hasn’t come into the store. Hasn’t sent any boxes of pastries.

Clarke hasn’t run into her on the street or at the dry cleaners.

It’s…

She doesn’t really quite know what to do about it. Hoping Lexa wasn’t scared off by her sick state or the way they eased into each other in the warm apartment.

For the first time she wishes she had Lexa’s number. If only she’d asked drugged up and half asleep.

Xx

“Clarke?”

“Yeah, Rave?”

“You’re gonna close aren’t you?” Raven phrases it as a question, but her voice gives away that she already knows the answer.

“I think so.”

Raven accepts the confirmation with a nod and a far away look. The store is empty. Has been empty all day.

“Good.”

“You’ll be out of a job and you’re saying good?”

“Yeah. You were born for something else, Clarke. It’s time you found it. Stopped living in the past.”

Clarke’s heart swells inside of her. She scoops Raven up into her arms, into a blistering hug.

“Thank you.”

“Alright, ok, I get it… you’re squishing me. Don’t make me sic Octavia on you.”

“Please. We both know I could take her down.”

Raven laughs, “Yeah, you’re brutal, Clarke. Fucking brutal.”

Xx

They go out for dinner. Close up the shop early instead of wait around even longer for no one to show up.

Raven weaves her arm through Clarke’s and they walk down the street huddled together for warmth to the Pho place Raven is obsessed with. It’s small and cozy and warm inside and Clarke peels her scarf off almost immediately.

They sit at the rickety table in the corner and order two bottles of beer, clinking in cheers before swinging them back.

“Glad to have you back in the land of the living, Clarkey. We missed you at New Year’s.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “That cold really knocked me on my ass.”

“Yeah, no way I was going near that with a ten foot pole. Sorry not sorry, I value my health over your sniffles.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to interrupt your first New Year’s Eve with Octavia anyway. How’s that going, by the way?”

Raven swoons in front of her. Melts into her chair with a wide grin and blush on her cheeks and swoons.

“I think I love her.”

“I think you do, too.”

“She’s just like… _everything_ I’ve wanted. The whole damn package, you know?” Raven still can’t wipe the smile off her face and it’s infectious.

“I don’t know how you didn’t see it… Like, we _all_ saw it, Rave.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Raven blushes but can’t hide her smile. Too smitten to even sass back at Clarke’s teasing.

“Don’t whatever me.”

Clarke’s lips split into a grin and she clinks her bottle with Raven’s again before taking another sip. Something alight and warm in her bones.

“I’m happy for you.”

“I’m happy, too.” Raven clears her throat when the waiter comes over and they order.

“What about you… how is everything since…”

“I’m good.” Clarke means it. Truly.

“Clarke…”

“No, really. I’m good.”

“Your internet thing… are you, are you still doing that?”

“Yeah. It’s still nice, a good break in the day.

“What are you going to do now without Arkadia?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe actually write that novel I’ve been thinking about. Maybe just travel. Maybe start painting. Who knows.”

“Your mom?”

“I haven’t even broached the subject with her. I suppose if she wants to take back over and appoint someone to handle the store she can but, I doubt it. I think it’ll be easier for her to live without this memory of Dad all the time.”

Raven scans her face, looking for breaks in the armor. Clarke allows it, her friend has always been able to tell when something is off.

Their food comes before she can find anything, anything that isn’t there. They settle into stories about Octavia and an awful double date with her brother Bellamy and his girlfriend and Clarke feels freer than she has in years.

Xx

It happens when she least expects it, like it always does.

Raven’s eyes focus and darken over her shoulder, “She always seems to pop up in the worst places, I swear.”

Clarke turns her head, eyes landing on Lexa.

Lexa walking into the dinky little Pho restaurant with a wide smile on her face and a lanky, hot blonde behind her.

Her stomach turns and something burns within.

Lexa sees her before she can look away. They share a fleeting look. Lexa seems far away from her and the burn in Clarke grows.

She whips her head back around to Raven, who’s eyebrow is cocked and arms crossed.

“Good thing we’re done.” Raven snarks and pulls cash out of her wallet.

“Yeah.”

They pay the bill and gather their coats up. Clarke feels Lexa’s eyes on her, but she doesn’t look again. Not needing to see her date. Not wanting to remember how long the blonde’s legs are.

Not entirely understanding the flare of jealousy.

This must be why she’s been distant.

Raven is out the door and halfway into a cab before Clarke has both feet on the sidewalk outside.

“Get in, it’s freezing!”

“Nah, I’m gonna walk. Night, Rave.”

“Your loss, crazy.” The cab speeds away while Clarke pulls her hat tighter on her head and her scarf around her neck.

She hears the door open behind her but doesn’t turn.

“Clarke.”

“Lexa.”

“How are you?” Lexa’s voice is the same calm, quiet one from her apartment.

“Better.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Clarke still doesn’t turn around. Fighting with herself on the pavement.

“You better get back to your date. She’s probably wondering why you’re out here talking to me.” It’s more bitter than Clarke intends. Harsher in the thin winter air.

“Anya’s not my date. She’s my oldest friend.”

The thing that gripped her chest fades away. The thing that Clarke still doesn’t fully understand.

Finally she turns around. Lexa’s eyes wide, her face relaxed. Happy.

“Still shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

“No. But I’m glad I saw you. I’ve…” she leaves the sentence dangling there.

“You disappeared.”

“I caught your cold.” Her eyebrow quirks in the way that means she’s amused but doesn’t want to fully admit it.

Clarke laughs at that, the irony. “No good deed, huh?”

Lexa smirks. One half of her mouth tilts up and her eyes light up and Clarke can’t look away. “Guess not.”

“I thought I scared you away.” It comes out in a whisper. Almost lost, stuck in Clarke’s throat.

The tips of Lexa’s ears pink. “Not a chance.”

“So, still friends then?”

She thinks Lexa wavers when she says friends.

Thinks her eyes flicker.

Doesn’t want to hope, really.

Doesn’t want to rush.

Doesn’t want to trust this new familiarity they have with one another.

Lexa just meets Clarke’s eyes with a stoic nod, her throat bobbing with words unsaid.

“Friends get brunch, right?”

A smile, a real one. “Yeah.”

“So, are you free tomorrow?” It’s flirty.

She doesn’t care.

Too far past anything in this moment.

Not even feeling the cold wind that’s whipping at Lexa’s shirt sleeves.

“I am. Just to be clear, we’re _planning_ on bumping into each other for brunch, instead of leaving it to fate?” There’s a sly smile on her face, a twinkle in her eyes.

“It appears so, yes. Polis at 11:30?”

“I’ll be there.”

“You should get inside, wouldn’t want you to catch your death out here.”

“I’m much stronger than cold wind, Clarke. You’ll see.” It’s the teasing that does it. That makes Clarke look at her lips and linger. Wondering just what it would feel like to kiss them.

Instead, she watches them form words, “Get home safe, Clarke.”

And then Lexa is disappearing back into the restaurant, lost in the fog of swampy air inside.

The soft way her name spilled off Lexa’s lips echoes through her all the way home.

Xx

Clarke makes it home quickly, practically diving into her bed fully clothed and wrapping more blankets over herself.

She stays that way for long moments, warming her bones. Still thinking about Lexa’s soft smile.

The plans they’ve made for tomorrow.

How strange it is. That they’re the type of people who plan to hang out now.

Who have crossed some strange threshold into neutral territory. Where they could go anywhere from here.

She drags herself to the tiny bathroom to start a warm bath as a distraction. A glass of wine and an email from The_Commander her companions for the night.

And yet, as she sits and scrolls tumblr on her phone in the tub after replying to her email, she finds her mind drifting back to Lexa.

How much she wants to text her.


	24. Chapter 24

She’s nervous.

Hasn’t been this nervous since before that television interview.

Her hands are sweaty and her stomach is bouncing and she’s fucking nervous.

It’s just brunch.

It’s not a date.

It’s _Clarke_.

Clarke who has barely started to smile around her.

She wants it to be a date. Remembers all the possibilities that stretched out before her. Before the fiasco at Pour.

Wanheda. Clarke. She’s had feelings for both swirling around for months and it’s all too much and not enough.

Xx

Brunch is easy.

Clarke greets her inside the restaurant with a warm smile and bright eyes and butterflies take over her belly.

Clarke seems happy, unburdened.

Light.

She laughs willingly and grins wickedly and sips at her bloody mary slowly, savoring every drop.

Lexa,

Lexa is screwed.

Pulls out all the stops, her winningest jokes. Her own smile. Her best stories.

It feels routine.

Normal.

Like they’ve had brunch like this dozens of times.

The ease that came to them in Clarke’s small apartment is back, blanketing the table and conversation.

She feels warm and full and it’s not just from the delicious food.

Clarke shares bites of her stuffed french toast with Lexa, loading up her fork and offering it across the tiny table, watching with glee as Lexa’s eyes widen around the savory flavors.

Lexa shares her omelet, a slice of her bacon.

It feels like a date.

It’s _not_ a date.

Friends.

This is how friends brunch.

When they leave, Lexa watches Clarke wrap her thick scarf around her neck, trapping her blonde waves between fabric and skin. She wants to pull it free, run her fingers through it. Doesn’t realize she’s staring until Clarke calls her name again and blushes fiercely.

“Lexa?”

“Sorry… what were you saying?”

“Next week… do you want to do this again next week?”

Her stomach flips, “I would love to, but I’m traveling for work.”

Clarke’s face falls for a brief second, “Ah. For how long?”

“Three weeks,” Lexa groans.

“Where to?”

“Our west coast office. I like to check in every few months out there.”

Clarke just bobs her head and smiles, “You mean you get to leave this frozen city and soak up more sun?”

“I sure do. I’m a great planner.” She wiggles her eyebrows and sends Clarke a cheeky grin, too in love with this moment and everything she hopes it holds.

Clarke laughs and Lexa thinks it’s the best sound.

“Well, you’ll have to make sure and stop by when you’re back.”

“I will.”

Clarke takes a few steps backward, deftly avoiding oncoming foot traffic. “Safe travels. Enjoy the sunshine.”

“May we meet again, Clarke.”

Xx

The west coast trip has never been more boring.

More unappealing.

It’s gorgeous weather.

Absolutely perfect.

But Lexa hates it. Scowls at the sun every morning. The traffic, the city.

She’d rather be back home.

Near Clarke.

Focusing on work is difficult. More difficult than it’s been in ages.

More than once she curses herself for not asking for Clarke’s number. Texting back and forth would have been nice. Fun.

Friendly.

Instead she just has mountains of work and store visits and meetings and it sucks. Her empty hotel room is more uninviting than ever and she counts down the days until she’ll be back in New York.

Her only entertainment comes from Wanheda. Which of course is Clarke, but not in the way she wants her to be. Not yet.

Slyly she drops little hints into their emails.

Let’s her know that she’s also traveling for work. That the sun is wonderful. That she is glad to have missed the major snow storm that swept through the entire northeast.

Wanheda who either doesn’t make the connections or doesn’t comment on them.

Lexa toes the line. Debates with herself just how much to put into their emails. Just how much to allude to her real life.

She puts more brainpower into them than work, which says more than it should.

Xx

It’s early.

It’s a risk.

Leaning against the familiar building. Waiting and watching as people flit by on their way to work.

No one questions her presence.

Just another shopper waiting for a store to open.

She hears her before she sees her.

Her deliciously deep voice wafting through the thin winter air, slicing into Lexa’s ears.

Lexa, Lexa doesn’t move. Just keeps leaning against the building, that same familiar warmth spreading through her bloodstream.

She turns her head and sees Clarke. Clarke looking down at the sidewalk as she talks on the phone. Her voice rushed and annoyed.

She looks up for a moment and her eyes widen as they land on Lexa.

A smile.

She hangs up the call quickly after that, shoving her phone back into her pocket and fixing the hat on her head.

“You know, loitering is frowned upon.”

“Who said anything about loitering? I’m simply waiting for this bookshop to open so I can enter with the intent to purchase goods.”

“Oh, you’re going to spend some money here?” Clarke challenges.

“Perhaps. I’m hoping you’ll have this one thing I’ve been looking for.”

“What might that be? You know, there’s this big, huge, brand spanking new bookstore around the corner and up the block. They have pretty much everything you could ever hope for.”

“What’s the name of that place, I can never remember…”

“Fuck books. Wait, that’s not it. Fox, yes. _Fox_ Books.”

Lexa laughs.

Full and hearty.

Clarke’s cheeky smile is all she needs to see.

“So, you’re back from the sun?”

“I am,” she smiles at Clarke, straightening herself off the wall.

“Is it your goal to be tan and sunkissed all winter?”

Her belly flips when Clarke says sunkissed. Clarke, Clarke is the sun. Buoyant and brilliant, but capable of burning white hot. Full of fire.

“Perhaps.”

Clarke doesn’t move to the lock. Doesn’t look like she’s going to open the store anytime soon to let them both in from the cold.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No.”

“Can I interest you in coffee and maybe a scone or two this morning?”

Clarke’s cheeks pink in the most brilliant way. She bites her bottom lip and her eyes dip to the ground before they’re back on Lexa. “Yes.”

Xx

It happens again.

The easy conversation.

Like no time has passed.

Like Lexa wasn’t gone for almost a month.

Clarke flirts.

Clarke flirts openly.

It’s…

It’s surprising and not unwelcome.

She’s missed this. The playful way they spar with each other. The barbs that aren’t intended to wound.

Clarke is,

Clarke is someone Lexa knew she would fall for the second she laid eyes on her.

She talks about her trip. About Los Angeles and San Diego. San Francisco and Seattle. Vancouver.

Clarke’s eyes light up with each new city, her questions thoughtful, her interest steady.

Lexa asks about the storm. About the city. About things that are safe.

“I’m closing in two weeks.”

Clarke blurts it out. Offers it unasked and takes Lexa wholly by surprise.

“You are?”

“I am.”

“Clarke…”

“No, it’s ok. I’m ok. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Once it hit me it felt like the right call, you know? Everyone has been really supportive, even my mother so… it’s just, that’s it.”

“I’m proud of you.”

Clarke blushes again, flusters her hands on the table. “Uh… “ she clears her throat, “Thanks.”

“I mean it. It’s a big thing, a big step.”

“I was pushed.”

“Perhaps, but you didn’t cling to the ledge. You looked at it and decided to let go. And that, that is brave, Clarke.”

“I suppose I should be thanking you.” She’s shy, quiet. Not brash.

“No. Only you can control how you react to life, you know this.”

“Anyway, we’re having a few big closeout sales. After that I guess you can buy any stock we have leftover.”

“You could donate it.”

“Why?”

“Give it to kids in need, shelters, libraries, schools. Tax write offs. Good deeds.”

Lexa watches as Clarke thinks it over, her eyes roving the coffee shop while her brain mulls the options.

“You know, one of these days I’ll find something that I can do better than you. And it will be glorious.” It’s teasing.

“We’ll see, Clarke.”

Xx

Lexa walks her back across the street. The store is open and the lights are on. She can see Raven sitting at the counter, reading and looking entirely bored.

“Thank you for agreeing to breakfast.”

“Thank you for showing up out of nowhere and asking,” Clarke laughs.

“Well, you did say to stop by when I was back. And I’m back so,” She smirks. Her full on smirk. The one that always gets her into trouble.

“I did, you’re right.”

They share a heavy silence.

Weighted.

Tense.

Something flitting between them.

Clarke licks her lips and leans forward, just a smidge.

Lexa’s breath catches in her throat.

Clarke’s arm swings around her shoulders and she’s pulled into a hug. Short. Strong.

And just like that, before she can respond and wrap her arms around the other girl, Clarke steps away.

Bashful.

“So, Friday… Sal’s… it’s happening.”

“Friday. Right. Pizza at 7.”

“I still can’t believe you grew up here and never went. What a shameful New Yorker you are.”

“We can’t all be perfect.” She shrugs and smiles and pulls her eyes off of Clarke’s lips.

“Guess not. See you around, Lex.” Clarke opens the door to her shop, the twinkling bell breaking Lexa from her thoughts.

The nickname rolling off Clarke’s tongue and into Lexa’s soul like nothing.


	25. Chapter 25

Clarke misses Lexa.

Actually misses her.

Can’t believe it, tries to deny it, but it’s there.

Which is silly and utterly ridiculous because Clarke wasn’t even sure she liked Lexa and yet, just knowing she’s not somewhere in the city, somewhere Clarke can run into her and talk to her…

Clarke just… misses her.

It’s only been a week.

They’ve gone longer than that without interaction.

Without maddening each other to frustrating ends.

But, it’s there and Clarke can’t push it away.

She buries herself in work again. The work of figuring out how long she can stay open while bleeding money and profit down the drain before it’s too much. How much longer she can give her employees opportunity to find new work, to grasp the reality of what’s happening.

She emails The_Commander like crazy. Flirting and joking and only half in it.

Half in it because she can’t stop thinking about Lexa Fox.

And how annoyed she is by her brain.

And how shy and beautiful Lexa looked when they said goodbye after brunch.

How she’s this enigma that Clarke can’t figure out.

The_Commander talks about the usual things. Tells her random stories of her day. Talks about traveling for work and sunshine.

And all of her words bring Clarke right back to Lexa.

And for the first time ever, The_Commander is not a distraction.

Xx

The snowstorm is brutal.

Whipping winds and swirling snow and ice pelting the windows.

The city comes to a standstill.

As much of a standstill as it can.

Raven’s power goes out and she trudges through it all to Clarke’s, huddling in under blankets with the alcohol she grabbed on her way out the door.

They stay in and laugh at old movies on television, drinking and talking. It feels like those endless nights in high school, when they’d live at each other’s houses on weekends and gossip. So familiar and so wonderful.

Clarke can’t help but tease her about how much she texts Octavia. Groans and whines that Octavia is stuck across town with her brother.

It’s wonderful, seeing her friend so happy. So set.

It makes her heart sing and ache at the same time.

Wanting that.

She didn’t even feel a hint of it with Finn.

Xx

Clarke’s phone rings on the coffee table, flashing her mother’s name across the screen. She sighs and picks it up, moving to the bedroom while Raven continues the binge watch on Netflix.

She’d been expecting the call.

The return of the voicemail she left three days ago. The one telling her mother she wanted to talk, check in, ask some questions about Arkadia.

She isn’t surprised that it takes days before her mother has time to call her back.

Clarke settles on her bed and pulls the quilt up around her hips and starts from the beginning.

Xx

“How’d it go?” Raven picks her head up off the arm of the couch and slides back up, giving Clarke space on the other side.

“Um… it went well.” Clarke still doesn’t know, is still unpacking the long conversation with her mother.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, she’s ok with me closing. And she’s happy that I’ll be able to figure out what I want to do with my life.”

“Ok, but did she say it in that weird way where she’s like, slightly condescending and judgey?”

“No, that’s the thing. She was really genuine about it. She wants me to let her know if I need anything with the close, with the lawyers and all that shit.”

“Wow. Who would have thought Abby’s heart would de-ice.”

Clarke levels her with a look and Raven backs off.

“Sorry… you’re right. She… nevermind.”

“I think this might be the thing that turns it back around for us, honestly.”

“I hope so, Clarkey.”

“Me too.”

Xx

The snow doesn’t melt for days. Four feet pile high on the small streets of New York and the standstill lasts longer than anyone thought.

Raven drags Clarke outside to jump in the piles adorning the sidewalks. To throw snowballs and laugh like children.

It’s exhilarating.

Clarke emails all of it to The_Commander.

Explains just what she’s missing out on by being on the west coast. Wonders if she’s anywhere near Lexa.

Doesn’t even fight it when her brains turns down that road. A lost cause, really.

It’s easy emailing The_Commander, but it’s losing some of its luster. 

The fun, flirty, secretive nature of it is wearing away. Being replaced by whatever is building in reality.

Xx

Her mother starts calling once a week.

Sometimes early in the morning when she’s getting ready for surgery and she knows Clarke will be walking to work.

It’s nice and different.

Clarke smiles now when she sees the name flash on her phone, doesn’t grimace like she did for so long after her father died.

Abby is explaining something about hospital politics to Clarke as she carefully walks to work, avoiding pockets of ice that linger on the sidewalk weeks later. The piles of snow that line the street have hardened and blackened with the grime of the city, the magic completely gone.

It’s so strange to see the layer of dirt and dust that settles on the white snow. How it covers her as she walks about the city, how she carries it on her shoes, her coat. Her lungs.

She listens to her mother and wonders when Raven will show up for work and almost misses the lanky figure outside of her store.

But her eyes look up and there she is.

In the flesh.

Looking even more stunning than before. Her face darker with the sun, her hair lighter.

Clarke rattles off an excuse to her mother and hangs up quickly, heart stuttering in her chest.

And just like that it’s back to the new normal.

The new strange, tentative way they dance around each other. And flirt. And smile.

It feels like no time has passed at all.

Xx

On Friday, Lexa meets her just outside Arkadia again standing alone in the cold evening air.

A familiar sight, leaning up against the brick and waiting for Clarke.

She greets her with a warm look, a slight smile.

That half smile that Clarke is growing fond of.

“You know, you could come inside to meet me. Like a human. Enjoy the heating and the lack of wind.”

“Yeah, I could but…I like it out here. No suspicious eyes.” Lexa jokes and shrugs her shoulder.

Clarke locks up dutifully and guides Lexa in the direction of Sal’s. Lexa talks about Aden, how he’s hitting a wall in school. Lexa sighs and talks about her father, how he seems lost. Not sure how strict to be, or how much to let Lexa in.

It’s different.

Lexa is confiding in her, showing Clarke more and more of her life, her heart.

The ties between them growing and tightening.

Clarke talks about her mother.

How their relationship is changing. Coming back to what it was so long ago.

How supportive Abby is being about the store closing, about Clarke finally moving on with her life.

“That’s the thing, isn’t it. You’re moving on.”

Lexa’s words hit Clarke, weigh on her chest but don’t suffocate her like they used to. “Guess so.”

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Lexa shifts the conversation so quickly, Clarke has whiplash.

“You’re asking me what I’m doing on a Saturday night? You know how that sounds, right?” Clarke can’t help but tease, it’s so easy.

Lexa, Lexa does her best not to blush. To hold her stance and continue. “Perhaps, but I also know I got tickets to that little Broadway show everyone is raving about and they were very hard to get. Turns out, no one wants to go with me so… what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Oh, so I’m your last resort?”

“You are, yep.” She bobs her head once in serious affirmation.

“So, it’s either… let me get this straight. It’s either go alone, give up both tickets _or_ take me?”

“Those would be the three options in front of me.”

“Well, you do flatter me, Miss.”

“Do you want to go or not, Clarke,” Lexa huffs. Clarke soars.

“Yes. Play your cards right and maybe you’ll get a meal out of it, too.”

Clarke watches as Lexa flusters in front of her. Tries to recover her cool, her calm nature. It’s endearing.

She avoids Clarke’s eyes and Clarke just smiles into her pizza, taking a large bite to distract herself from saying anything else.

Just hoping that maybe, maybe it will turn into a date.

Not even second guessing when she turned the corner and wanted it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soon.


	26. Chapter 26

Clarke’s eyes widen when she finds Lexa on her doorstep.

She’s rushing, pulling a coat around her shoulders and running down the stairs. She looks flustered and not at all put together.

And her eyes widen.

She takes in Lexa standing there against the gate. They drop down and back up, assessing her outfit.

Lexa knows she looks good. She always looks good.

It’s different though, seeing it confirmed on Clarke’s face.

In her eyes.

“See something you like?” Lexa lets it roll off her tongue. Not usually so forward but too pleased and enamored by the way Clarke is studying her.

Clarke just clears her throat and closes the distance between them. “We’re gonna be late.”

“We’ll be fine.” Lexa moves and Clarke opens the gate behind her and walks to Lexa’s car. She reaches for the handle of the door only to be shooed away by Lexa. Her eyes widen again with surprise before they melt into something else.

Something layered.

Lexa holds the door while Clarke steps inside. She tries to quell her raging heart before sliding in on the other side.

Xx

Clarke plays it cool. Tries not to look impressed with the personal driver and the great seats inside the theatre.

She tries.

And Lexa smiles to herself remembering Wanheda’s email from the night before.

How she geeked out about the ticket, the opportunity. How she’s secretly obsessed with the show but hasn’t even told her friends. How she didn’t want to look too excited when her friend asked, but she actually might have died a little bit inside at the idea of it.

Lexa couldn’t wipe the grin off her face when she read it. Curled in her bed and ready for sleep thinking pleasant thoughts about Clarke and their pizza not-date. Her phone buzzed with the email and she swooned even more.

Knowing that tonight means so much to Clarke.

Knowing that Lexa is the one who can bring her here, give her the experience.

It’s a head rush.

One she wasn’t even expecting.

Mostly because it’s something she shouldn’t know. Not yet.

It’s something that finally crosses the line between real and not.

Between Lexa and The_Commander.

She shouldn’t be privy to this bit of information.

And all she can think about is Clarke _knowing_. Finally.

She wants to tell her.

She wants to tell her so badly.

Let it free.

The truth.

All of it.

Let this really be a date.

Be what it is.

Real life in front of them.

But she can’t.

Can’t bring herself to spill the words that are right there on the tip of her tongue.

Can’t bring herself to dim Clarke’s shine.

Her wide smile.

She’s too in love with everything about this moment.

So she swallows the words back down and vows that she will.

Soon.

Xx

Clarke practically buzzes next to her as soon as the lights go down. She is a ball of energy in the seat to Lexa’s left, bursting with happiness and it’s so palpable.

Her smile is so bright and so big at intermission.

It takes everything in Lexa not to lean over and kiss it. Learn what it tastes like and how it feels against her lips.

Lexa barely remembers anything about the show. Finds it hard to focus on the action unfurling on stage when all she can think about is the warm girl next to her, the one who keeps inching closer and closer into her space.

When it’s over, Clarke hoots and hollers with the rest of the audience. They join the crowd leaving the auditorium and Clarke forgets herself for just a moment, clinging to Lexa’s arm as people push them closer together in their haste to leave.

Lexa,

Lexa can’t breathe.

They walk a few blocks to a small restaurant tucked away and on a side street. One of Lexa’s favorites in the city and it’s crowded after the shows let out, even in the late hour. Clarke hasn’t stopped talking about the show, her smile contagious and her happiness spilling everywhere.

Lexa teases her just a little bit.

Flirts and smiles and revels in the excited, slightly nerdy girl in front of her.

And Clarke, Clarke doesn’t even try to play it cool any longer, too enthralled with the night.

Her hands fly in front of her when she talks and her eyes are so bright. Lexa doesn’t get a word in, but she doesn’t care. She is enraptured by everything Clarke.

The way her eyes get wide when she bites into her food, enjoying the flavors bursting on her tongue.

The way she’s eager to share with Lexa. How she reaches over and pulls bites from Lexa’s plate without asking.

How she swirls her wine in the glass before sipping, as if reawakening it.

It’s all too much for Lexa.

And this time it actually feels like a date.

Truly.

And she wishes that it was.

She aches again to tell her.

Feels the words form with the last sip of her wine.

But Clarke,

Clarke is looking at her from across the table and she just can’t.

Can’t even think with the way Clarke is looking at her.

And it’s in that moment that it shifts.

The world tilts just a little bit more and the ground unsettles beneath her and it’s all just _Clarke_.

Xx

They stay late.

Too late.

It’s well into the early morning hours when they leave. Clarke huddled in the back of the car, overcome with food and wine and her excitement. She purrs happily as she leans her head back against the seat.

Lexa stares at her for just a moment. Allows herself one moment to actually imagine it. If they were weaving through the city streets back to one apartment instead of two.

“You’re staring.”

She blushes wildly, caught in her daydream.

“Just making sure you’re still alive after all that.” She tries to keep her voice light, casual. Even she hears the way it’s dropped into a lower octave, into something private.

“Barely.” Clarke opens her eyes and turns her head, giving her full attention to Lexa. “Thank you, for all of this…”

Lexa smiles warmly, her heart pounding against her ribcage. “You’re welcome.”

They settle into another easy silence for a few blocks until Clarke breaks it. “Give me your phone.”

It’s tentative yet forward. Lexa does so without question, unlocking it and placing it in Clarke’s waiting palm. She watches as Clarke’s fingers move over the screen easily, before she hands it back.

“Now it’s official.”

“What?” Lexa almost stutters. Her stomach flips and she can’t stop this freefall she’s in, not now.

“We’re friends. Officially. It’s there in your phone.”

“Ah,” Lexa nods and feels her ears warm.

Even though her heart stops and almost snags on the word friends.

The car slows to a stop and she looks out the window at the familiar block. Clarke doesn’t move to leave though. Like she’s trapped in this bubble with Lexa. This bubble of the new and unfamiliar. Of strange territory.

She grabs the door handle but still doesn’t open it. Almost waiting, building up courage. Something.

“You know sometimes I wonder.” Lexa hears herself say it. The thoughts that have been swirling around her head for so long.

“About what?” Clarke turns to her, soft and not surprised.

“If I hadn’t been Fox Books and you hadn’t been Arkadia… and we just _met_. Sometimes I wonder.”

She didn’t want to bring this up. Not tonight. Not when it had been so perfect from the beginning.

But it’s out there now.

Clarke sighs in the seat next to her and she’s expecting a denial. Or sass.

She’s ready. Ready to spill it. Takes a deep breath and tries to push it from her soul.

To slice open herself open and lay it all at Clarke’s feet.

Instead, she feels the leather shift underneath her and Clarke’s breath on her face.

And Clarke leans in and kisses her cheek.

Feather-soft and fleeting.

Like the world stops around them.

Before she can react, Clarke is out of the car and closing the door gently behind her.

Xx

She makes it home in a daze.

Can still smell Clarke’s perfume. Can still feel the way she gripped Lexa’s elbow when they left the show. Can still see her brilliant smile. Can still feel the soft lips that touched her skin for the quickest of seconds.

Her phone buzzes inside her pocket when she opens her front door. She pulls it out, not even containing the smile on her face or the flip of stomach.

 **Thank you again for a perfect night**.

She types out a response. **You’re welcome. It was my pleasure**.

The three bubbles pop up before she can look away. **We’ll have to do it again sometime.**

Lexa wonders what _it_ and _sometime_ mean. It being a date or it being hang out or it being a broadway show. She’s lost.

And flustered.

And so terribly in trouble.

**Goodnight again, Clarke.**

Xx

She washes her face and crawls into bed exhausted and so glad tomorrow is Sunday when her phone buzzes again.

Wanheda.

A new email.

Just one sentence.

_I think I’m in trouble._

Her heart nearly explodes in her chest and she sets it down without replying. Knowing Wanheda wouldn’t expect a reply at 2:47 in the morning. Not when she still doesn’t know it’s Lexa on the other side.

Not when she doesn’t realize The_Commander knows exactly what she means.

Xx

_What kind of trouble? I hope it’s nothing real and crazy and you’re just being dramatic that way you love to do._

Lexa sends it first thing when she wakes up.

Later than she’s woken up in a long time.

Her phone is blank, nothing new from Clarke or Wanheda. So she laces up her sneakers and goes for the first run outside in months.

The cold weather finally loosening on the city again, lulling the residents into a false sense of security.

She has an email and a text when she gets back. She reads the email first.

_Nothing I should even be talking to you about. Mostly because I don’t know why I said that but I’ll blame alcohol and sleep deprivation. Secondly because… I don’t think it’s a subject you and I talk about. So let’s forget I said anything, shall we?_

Lexa’s happiness dims a little.

She pulls her expectations and reality back.

Until she slides open the text.

**Good morning :) Brunch?**

It’s not just the endorphins from her run that have her smiling in the shower.


	27. Chapter 27

It feels different.

Seeing Lexa.

Feeling a tug inside of her.

Wanting to touch, to hug, to see her smile.

It’s so different.

It feels even better than it did when Lexa came back from her work trip and shrugged her shoulders and looked up at Clarke with those eyes and that face and that almost-but-not-quite pout.

She walks up and pulls Lexa into a hug before she can second guess herself. Just needing to.

Remembering the words Lexa spoke so quietly in the car last night.

The ones that echoed in her head and kept her up all night.

That same feeling that’s been sitting in her bones and unnamed for so long.

For this whole time.

Finally Lexa was the one to say it out loud. To name it.

To put that _If_ on everything.

So, it feels different today.

Better.

Lexa stiffens in surprise for just a breath before she relaxes and her arms encircle Clarke. Lexa who is steady and quiet, who doesn’t seem to breathe while Clarke is this close.

She looks shy but happy when they break apart and leads Clarke into the restaurant.

There’s a new calmness that settles over them, like they both know what they’re doing now but neither one wants to say it. Not after last night.

Not after that hug.

They just… go with it.

Laugh. Smile.

It’s… it’s more than Clarke has had with anyone in a long, long time.

And Lexa,

Lexa looks at her now in a new way.

Layered and real.

It flusters Clarke.

Makes her think that something, something is there.

She knows she looks at Lexa with that same newness in her eyes.

That fondness growing and creeping and coloring all of their interactions.

Turning into affection.

Xx

“We have to tell the customers.”

“I think they already know, Raven.”

“Yeah, but… like officially, we have to put a sign up or something, right?”

“I don’t want to be tacky. I just want to close quietly and say goodbye to my dad and be done.”

“Clarke…”

“Really. Plus I’m going to donate some of this stuff and sell the rest to Lexa so whatever.”

“Lexa?”

Clarke blanches. She’s been keeping her blossoming friendship…whatever… with Lexa under wraps. “Yes. She’s right up the street and Fox can sell this stuff better than I can, clearly. So it all makes sense.”

Raven cocks an eyebrow and studies Clarke’s face. “Hmm… Okay, Clarke. Sure.”

Clarke knows from the tone Raven doesn’t believe her. But she doesn’t keep questioning it either.

Xx

The next two weeks pass in a blur.

Her emails to The_Commander all but dry up.

Clarke doesn’t feel the need to reach out, chat, catch up as much as she used to. And The_Commander is almost a ghost. She wonders if perhaps they reached the limit with the almost that they inhabited.

She doesn’t have time to dwell on it. To wonder or feel bad either way. To think of a way to even ask.

She’s too busy.

The store and her mom and her employees and… Lexa.

Clarke spends as much free time as she can with Lexa when their schedules match up. Learning about Lexa is starting to become her favorite way to pass the time.

Lexa is… enigmatic. So much more than Clarke would have ever thought.

There is tender Lexa.

There is shy Lexa.

There is passionate Lexa.

There is sarcastic and smart Lexa.

There is broody and quiet Lexa.

There are so many layers of Lexa and Clarke gets a thrill with each new one she sees.

She wants to see them all.

Learn everything she can about this person who just swooped out of nowhere and fucked up her life but became something she craves.

She thinks about it a lot.

Lexa’s hushed confession, whispered in the back of the car.

If she wasn’t Arkadia. If Lexa wasn’t Fox Books.

If they had just met on the street.

Or in any one of the places Clarke has seen her in recent months.

_What if?_

It would have bloomed quicker, this thing.

She is smitten.

Smitten in a way that she almost hates because it’s so not like her.

But it’s there and it’s loud and it claws at her in the quiet moments. In the day dreams. In the seconds before sleep and the moments before wakefulness.

Lexa’s words.

Lexa’s slow smile.

Lexa.

Xx

Slowly she boxes up her store and starts donating things. She hugs her regular customers and tells them she’s closing. She does a small couple small interviews and loads up Arkadia’s tumblr with a few posts explaining the situation.

It’s emotional.

More than she thought it would be.

It drains her. As much as she’s looking forward to the next step, she’s sad and heartbroken and missing her dad.

She talks to her mom about it one night, late. Lexa too busy to meet up. Monty out with his girlfriend and Raven holed up with Octavia on a long weekend somewhere romantic.

She talks about how she misses him. His hugs. His smiles. The way she felt like she could do no wrong, even when she so clearly did.

Her mom cries.

She hears it on the other end, through the phone. The country spanning between them.

“He would be so proud of you, Clarke.”

Clarke’s own voice breaks and she’s silent for a long stretch. Tears streaming down her face.

“I hope so.”

“I know it.”

Xx

There isn’t any fanfare when Clarke walks into Arkadia for the last time.

No music.

No balloons or goodbye party.

Just her.

And the empty shelves.

The boxes piled in the middle of the space ready for pick up.

It’s underwhelming.

She thought it would hurt more, but it feels strangely foreign. Like it’s not her life. Not happening to her.

Just her and the ghost of her father. Doing the final walk through. Dusting fingers along worn wooden shelves. Stopping in the place where her father used to pick her up and twirl her in his burly arms when she was small.

Her giggles infectious to everyone around them.

It seems fitting, that this is how it happened.

That she didn’t grow bored or restless. That people stopped coming in just because book sales have slowed down.

No, it seems fitting that they went down with a fight, but knew when it was time.

The morning sun streams through the window and hits the dust floating around the muted space.

Clarke plops herself down on the floor and pulls her knees up to her chest, and paints this all into her memory. Every ounce of it.

And when the two guys come from Fox Books to pick up the stock she didn’t donate, she is unfazed. Business as usual. They come in and move the boxes out of the store and onto the white truck outside with ease, leaving her with a slip and a thick envelope.

And then they’re gone.

And it’s empty.

Xx

_I know we never talk about personal things, that it has been one of the rules since the beginning. But, I need to, so please allow me this one instance._

_I closed my shop today._

_I owned a shop. Took it over when my dad died. It was mine and I loved it because it was his. But today we closed. And I stood in the middle and looked around at everything he built, at everything I maintained and just…_

_I miss it._

_My old life. The one where my parents were happy and married. The one where opportunity was at every corner, waiting for me to take it. The one where I didn’t feel like a heavy weight was on my shoulders every day._

_I think I can have that back now. I think that I can take some time and really look inside myself and have that back. And I think it terrifies me._

_But I know I’m excited._

Sends the email even though when she looks at her messages, the last correspondence between her and The_Commander was weeks ago and barely anything at all.

She just needs to tell someone these thoughts.

Put it all into the universe.

Say goodbye.

She sends the email and picks up the phone wanting to text Lexa.

Since she got home hours ago and sat on the couch and cried it out, holding the keys to Arkadia in her hand and looking at the framed photo of her and her father on the table. The one she pulled off the wall behind the counter and carried home.

Since she walked out of the store for the last time, all she’s wanted to do is text Lexa.

It jump starts her heart thinking about it.

Thinking about all of it.

But she needs to hear the cool, calm, voice she craves.

**Are you busy?**

She waits for a few moments for the reply.

**Not anymore.**

She smiles. **Can we get a drink? Pour one out for Arkadia and salute you stomping another independent bookstore into the ground.**

The ellipses pops up immediately. **Only if you let me buy.**

**Of course you’re buying! You’re currently employed. And, let’s not forget, you ran me out of business.**

It’s a few moments before Lexa responds this time. Clarke imagines her finishing up work or dealing with something in a big, roomy office. **Well, alright then. I’ll see you and your hostility at TonDC in half an hour?**

Clarke bites her lip, fingers hovering over the phone. Because she likes her. And she’s ready to admit that she likes her, both to herself and to Lexa.

She knows Lexa has been trying to say something. To ask something. Or admit something. Sees it in the quiet moments of their conversations. The way she suddenly gets nervous and flustered, swallows her words or stumbles over a random thought instead.

Clarke lets her have it. Lets her fret and ponder. Finds it endearing.

But if one of them doesn’t take the first step, try to move them out of this weird stasis that they’re in, Clarke fears they’ll be stuck here forever. Balancing precariously on this precipice.

Missing their shot.

Missing their chance.

Forever in the dark about what could have been.

What could be.

“Fuck it,” she says out loud to her empty apartment. **It’s a date.**

The bubbles pop up once and disappear. It feels like an eternity passes before they pop up again.

**Is it?**

Clarke’s blood rushes to her head and her face blazes red. **Do you want it to be?**

Before she gets a response, her computer chirps with a new email alert.

It’s a response from The_Commander.

She reads it, hoping to distract herself from the anxiety that’s settled over her waiting for Lexa’s response.

_I’m sorry to hear that, I’m sure it was lovely. And I’m sure that your father would have been proud of you. But you’re right, the world is your oyster now. You can go out there and put your Wanheda stamp on it. Travel. Live._

_Not feel tied to something._

_Carry him in your heart and the memories there, but turn a new page and start a new chapter._

_I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask this for quite some time. Hemming and hawing over the question. Wondering if I’m overstepping._

_But, honestly, I would love to know if you’d like to try to meet again._

_I know last time didn’t work out. I know that I was another ghost. That I haven’t even begun to explain the reasoning behind that again. But… I’d like to know you._

_And if the answer is no, that’s ok. I will at least have asked again. I will at least have put my feelings and intentions out there._

_If you don’t have an answer for me now, that’s alright, too. I’ll wait._

_It takes as long as it takes._

Xx

Clarke finishes the email and something wiggles in her brain.

Lexa still hasn’t responded and The_Commander seemed so formal. It’s so strange to be reading this now when Clarke was so sure they were done.

She re-reads the email again, wanting to lodge whatever it is from her mind.

And then it hits her. That line. She’s heard that line before.

_It takes as long as it takes._

She tries to remember where she heard it, feels like it wasn’t that long ago. Runs through television shows and movies, books.

And then it slams into her.

A gut punch.

Realization clear as day.

_Lexa._

And not for the first time her brain spirals to that place.

That place between crazy and impossible.

That place that seems almost too good to be true and unbelievable.

And frustrating all at once.

What if?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up!


	28. Chapter 28

The text burns into her eyes as she stares at it.

**It’s a date.**

Her breath nowhere to be found, her heart racing away with her. Her fingers tingling around her phone.

She needs more information, knowing how Clarke is. How she teases and jokes and isn’t ever at all serious until she is.

**Is it?**

The response is immediate. **Do you want it to be?**

_Yes. Yes. Yes._

Lexa takes a shaky breath and sets the phone down without replying. If she wasn’t so shaken she’d laugh at the irony of it all. The timing, impeccable as always. Clarke always surprising her and taking things into her own hands.

The email she sent just moments ago. The one asking Wanheda to meet.

The one that she sent away before Clarke texted those three words.

_It’s a date._

And now, now it’s all… muddled.

She wanted more time to prepare, to plan a speech or figure out how to soften the blow. She wanted more time with Clarke.

 _This_ Clarke.

This version who smiles at her and pulls her into hugs and laughs at her lame jokes.

The one who looks at her with something layered in her irises.

Xx

Clarke is nervous when she walks up to the bar.

Lexa can see it on her shoulders, the way she bites her lip.

Their last text still unanswered. Lexa wanted to answer. Wanted to confirm that yes, she wants this to be a date.

But she can’t.

Not like this.

Not until everything is out in the open.

Not until she knows that Clarke knows that this whole thing between them has been blossoming on the screen and in person. That they are not strangers, but old friends.

It’s time.

“Hi,” she greets Clarke warmly, trying to pull her from her mind.

Clarke’s eyes are stormy when she looks up. “Uh, hey.”

“Drinks?” Lexa nudges her head towards the heavy wooden door behind them, but Clarke grabs her wrist and stops her. Pulls her closer.

“You didn’t answer my text and I’m fucking nervous for some reason and I hate this.”

Lexa smiles, “Clarke, let’s get a drink first.”

“No, I want to know what this is. I can’t stand it. Are we friends? Are we dating? Is this something that’s going to grow and move or is this something I need to set down and bury with Arkadia?”

“Clarke, please?” Lexa tugs her wrist and moves Clarke forward a step. They’re so close. Clarke studies her face and nods, following Lexa inside.

They sit at a small table in the back. Dark and private.

Clarke fiddles with her hands on the table and Lexa can’t help but watch them.

“Are you ok?”

“No. Frankly I’m not ok, I need a drink, I need answers. I need everyone to stop being so damn confusing all the time.” She’s stressed but not cold.

Confused.

“What else is bothering you?”

“You mean besides you?” Clarke looks up pointedly, her eyes unforgiving. “Let’s see… the thing with my store, yeah. The missing my dad. And now this thing that I thought was gone and out of reach comes blazing back so…”

“You asked me if this is a date. Are you…is there someone else?”

“No. Not really. It’s complicated.”

“Most things are.” Lexa takes a sip of her beer, trying to steel herself for this.

“A while ago there was this _possibility_ of someone. This idea. This… thing.” Her eyes look far away when she admits it. Lexa’s heart stutters for just a beat.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Lexa, what is _this_? What?” She's exasperated.

“Clarke-”

“No, don’t do that again,” Clarke cuts her off. “Please.”

“Ok.” She takes a deep breath, knowing there’s no other way to do it.

“I need to ask you something so, can you please just be honest with me?”

Lexa’s stomach churns. Her hands sweat. She nods.

“Lexa… why were you at Pour that night?”

“Clarke…”

“Please,” Clarke’s voice cracks. Serious and sad and nervous.

“Do you remember how mad you were that I showed up?” Her pulse rushes in her ears and her mouth feels dry. There’s no going back.

Clarke seems hesitant now.

“Clarke,” She holds her gaze. Tries to convey as much as she can with her eyes. “You know why I was there.” She barely whispers it. Barely gets the words out.

“What do you mean?” Clarke’s voice is hushed, almost the same as Lexa’s. There’s something tinged in her words.

“I mean,” Lexa reaches down and picks up her phone, opening her inbox and sliding it across the table to Clarke.

Clarke who looks at her in confusion before reading the screen before her. Her face pales and her shoulders stiffen.

“Lexa.”

“I should have told you sooner. I’ve been trying to tell you for so long, I didn’t know how.”

“Yeah, you should have.” Clarke sighs, stares at the ceiling to gather her thoughts. “Jesus, this is what you’ve been trying to tell me for weeks…”

Lexa watches the emotions play on Clarke’s face. She’s angry but there’s something else there, too.

“So you’ve known about me this whole fucking time?” Her eyes are stormy again.  Lexa tries to brace herself.

“Yes. Since then, yes.”

“I had this _feeling._ I had it and I told myself I was crazy but it was there. And then you said that thing in that email that you said last week and… did you play me? Did you use all of this to your advantage to make me start falling for you?” Clarke’s voice is quiet, ragged. Hurt.

The anger fades to disbelief, pain.

“No. I never expected anything from you, Clarke. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you like this.” She fills her voice with as much truth as she can, as much realness.

Completely serious in every word that leaves her mouth.

Clarke stops for a moment as she hears those words. They slice through her. The truth getting through her frustration, her confusion.

“This is… just… every time I think you’re done surprising me, you pull shit like this. It’s like you’re the shoe that keeps dropping.”

Clarke wriggles out of the booth and grabs her jacket.

“I just can’t do this anymore, Lex.”

It’s not angry. Her words.

They’re filled with resignation.

“Thank you for finally being honest with me. Took you long enough.”

Heartbreak.

“Clarke, please. Let me explain.” Lexa starts to slide out of the booth.

“No, Lexa.” Clarke’s voice is firm, closed off.

Lexa opens her mouth to say something but Clarke cuts her off with the shake of her head.

“You have no honor and I had no choice. Not in this. Not until now.”

The words punch Lexa in the gut as Clarke storms out the door.

Xx

Anya stands outside her door with a pint of ice cream and a six pack. For once in her life, she doesn’t look smug.

Lexa steps aside to let Anya enter and closes the door quietly behind her with a sigh.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, you know that.”

Lexa runs her hands through her hair, tugging it up off her face and into a messy bun.

“So, she didn’t take it well.”

“No.”

Anya tosses her the pint of ice cream and disappears into the kitchen. Lexa finds her rummaging around for a bottle opener.

“Third drawer on the left.”

The familiar hiss of the bottle opening does nothing to soothe Lexa’s frayed nerves.

“What happened?”

Lexa takes a long gulp, “I think she had it kind of figured out actually. I’m not sure if it worked in my favor or not.”

“Ok.”

“She closed her store today. I knew it was going to be a hard day for her, but I’ve been really busy this week. I waited for her to reach out because Clarke is, she’s like this wild thing sometimes. And she emailed me and got really personal which is something we never do.”

“I’m missing where this is a bad thing, Lexa.”

“Well, we had kind of stopped emailing. I think we were both enjoying real life. I was emailing her back finally working up the courage to see if she’d want to meet again. At the same time, she was texting me about getting a drink tonight. She asked me if I wanted it to be a date and I never answered her.”

“So how did she find out?” Anya leans on the counter, intrigued and supportive.

“She asked me point blank. Said one of the things that was bothering her was me. The whole situation. Brought up the night at Pour and I showed her my inbox. And, the thing is, she didn’t look all that surprised.”

“Maybe your hints were starting to land?”

“I think so. Ahn, she looked like she expected it. But it still hurt her. _I_ hurt her.”

“The _situation_ hurt her. Both of them. You really got the shit end both times on this.”

“She said she was falling for me,” Lexa croaks. Feeling all of it consume her, finally.

Anya is silent for a long moment.

“How did you leave it?”

“She stormed out. And I let her.”

Xx

Lexa wants to reach out.

Text her.

Email.

Hell, even call.

Wants to do something.

Aches with the nothingness.

She doesn’t.

Clarke needs space. Time.

Instead she pulls herself out of bed the next day and climbs in the shower allowing the warm water to rush over her. Washing away the alcohol and the late night. Washing away the pain and regret.

She can’t undo it.

What’s done is done.

She can simply go to work and continue on with her routine and hope for the best.

It was stupid, she knows, to hold on for so long. To play it like she did. Clarke deserves more than that. More than this. She was right in her reaction, right in her anger and pain. Right to storm away.

That’s what gets to Lexa most.

Clarke is right.

After everything she learned about Clarke, how could she expect any less.

Xx

It takes a week.

A long, tortuous week.

Of nothing.

No texts.

No emails.

No interaction.

She is on edge and anxious.

Unsure.

Frustrated and broody at work.

Heartbreak doesn’t look good on her. Never has.

It takes this silence for Lexa to realize it.

How much she’s fallen for Clarke. How attached she already is.

How Clarke might be the one that got away.

That she pushed away.

Until her phone chirps one night on her desk and it’s Clarke.

And Lexa’s heart almost stops in her chest. Unsure what to expect.

She wants to slide it open right away, put herself out of her misery. But she can’t.

She stares at the name flashing across the screen until it goes black. She takes two deep breaths before unlocking her phone and sliding it open.

**Can we meet?**

It’s simple. Direct. To the point.

Lexa’s hands sweat and tingle. **Yes.**

Clarke’s response comes quickly. **Let’s go back to the beginning. Pour in an hour?**

It all comes rushing back to her. The way Clarke makes her feel, how much she’s missed her, how stupid she was to think any of it would work.

**I’ll meet you there.**

She vows to herself, right there in her office, to make everything she can out of this opportunity. To give Clarke anything she wants, needs. Any explanations, apologies…closure.

She vows it, holds it close.

To not let Clarke slip through her fingers again.


	29. Chapter 29

The stool next to hers squeaks as Raven pulls it out to sit down.

“Well, what’s the emergency?”

Clarke downs her shot and pours another one from the vodka bottle on the bar next to her.

“I’m going to tell you something and I need you to not judge me but listen until I’m finished, ok?”

“Oh I’ll be silently judging, but I won’t interrupt you.” She signals to the bartender and he gives her another shot glass, nodding at Clarke and sending Raven a knowing look.

Clarke downs another shot and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Fuck, you slept with Lexa didn’t you? I knew it.” Raven guesses, smug yet incredulous.

“ _What!_ No. Fuck you!”

“I’m good, thanks. My woman keeps me _plenty_ pleased…”

“Ugh,” Clarke groans. “It does involve her though.”

“Called it, continue please.” Raven nods and scooches closer to Clarke.

“You know how I had that penpal thing going on? The emails with The_Commander?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s Lexa.”

Raven laughs. Throws her head back and laughs.

“This is _so_ not funny, Rave.” Clarke shoves her hard, almost dislodging her from the stool.

“It is. I had an inkling.”

“What do you mean you had an inkling?”

“She showed up at the _exact_ place you had your blind date? At the same fucking _time_? Come on, Clarke you are smarter than that.”

Clarke blushes hard, her anger at Raven growing by the second. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything then, you turd bucket!”

“Listen, you were tripping when that happened. That turned your whole world upside down. And that super vague explanation you got from her… _please_. Two plus two, Clarkey.”

Clarke groans again and lays her head on the corner of the bar. Too drunk. Too confused. Too emotional.

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yes. But you’re my idiot and I love you.”

Raven’s hand is warm on her back, rubbing her shoulders.

“How’d you find out?”

“She told me today. Today! The day I closed my shop. The day I said goodbye to the last living thing of my father, Jacob Griffin, the world’s best human. She met me for a drink and sat right there and told me.”

“Ok.”

“She just… I had this feeling. Today especially. But for a while now, I had this feeling you know? That it was her. For some reason. I just kept telling myself I was crazy.”

Raven scooches closer to her.

“I kept trying to figure out ways to ask her. One time I even started to… and then I lost my nerve. I didn’t want to be that paranoid girl who can’t trust anything. Look where that fucking got me.”

“Clarke?”

Clarke doesn’t answer, just looks up at Raven waiting for her to continue.

“How long have you and Lexa been talking?”

“Talking? Lexa Fox in the flesh?” Clarke blushes, she has to own up to it at some point. Raven deserves the truth.  “Um… kind of since January.”

Raven’s eyes widen with her surprise. “January?”

Clarke nods and pours another shot, but doesn’t drink it.

“When did you have this feeling?”

“Kind of when she went away for work… in January. But mostly the past couple weeks or so. Then tonight, I was texting her about something and I got this email from The_Commander and she said this thing. This perfect fucking thing that I remember Lexa saying when we were waiting at Gustus for a table. And it wiggled in my brain.”

“First- even _she_ had to wait at Gustus? Damn. I’ll never get a table. Second- Did you want it to be true?”

“What?”

“Did you want her to be The_Commander?” Raven cuts right to it. No frills.

Clarke stares at the shot on the bar. Swallows hard. Thinks. Really lets herself analyze all of it. From the very beginning.

Focusing on when Lexa walked into Pour all legs and hair and that smile and sat down next to her like it was nothing.

“Yes.”

“Then why are you sitting here getting drunk?”

She shrugs.

“Clarke,” Raven tries softly.

“This situation sucks. It’s so _fucked_!”

“Look, I get it. She could have owned up to it at some point but… Clarke… you never would have accepted it. Look at what happened at that party when you found out her last name? You fucking hulk out about _everything_ , she was probably scared. Probably trying to figure out if you would be ok with it. Maybe build some kind of friendship with you so it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

Clarke snorts, “You mean so it wouldn’t hurt when she betrayed me?”

“You’re the worst. Stop being so self-centered. Does this change how you feel about her?”

“She’s a liar, how can I trust her?” Clarke already knows it’s a weak argument. Knows it’s not the whole story, that what has transpired is not black and white.

“She protected herself and she protected you and she let you see her. The real her. Not the bookstore owner and CEO, but the _real_ Lexa.”

“Why are you sticking up for her?”

“Because I saw the way you looked when she came into the store. And I saw how hard you smiled at your phone when you got a new message, and how upset you were when you were stood up. Wait, do you think that night counts as your first date?”

Raven spirals off and laughs, pouring herself a shot and downing it.

Clarke just glares at her.

“Clarke _motherfucking_ Griffin, do you like her? _Do you!?_ ” Raven grips her shoulder again, cuts to the core of it and forces Clarke to look at her. To tell the truth.

“Fuck. I like her. I like her a lot. Like… I’m starting to fall for her,” Clarke admits. Whispering it out into the open for the second time tonight.

Raven waits for Clarke to realize everything that’s happened. Pulls her in for a one armed hug and rubs her back.

“Listen, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and I’m not saying she wasn’t wrong. Because… yeah, a lie of omission isn’t the best but, look at the circumstances. Look at _all_ of it. Hell, maybe she was trying to get you to figure it out. Wait for you to put the puzzle pieces together.”

“I know, _I know_ , Raven. That’s what’s got me so twisted. It’s like… she’s already been here for so long, I just didn’t know it was _her_. Even though I thought it might be. I’m telling you I really, I mean, I just wasn’t surprised.”

“Good. If you were, it would have been harder for you.”

“Harder for me to do what?”

“To get the girl.”

Clarke groans again, reaches for her shot but Raven pulls the bottle away.

“I’m cutting you off, I don’t need you blacking out while I try to get you home.”

“Fuck, fine,” Clarke growls.

Raven pulls Clarke up off the stool and drops some bills on the table, supporting Clarke’s weight as they walk out of the bar.

“Do you really think I can trust her? After all of this?” Clarke slumps against Raven, anchors herself to the support in more ways than one.

“I think you already do, Clarke.”

Clarke snorts and grumbles. Follows Raven’s lead.

“I’m rooting for her.”

“For who?” Clarke is lost and confused and drunker than she realized, trying not to trip over her own feet.

“Lexa.”

“Me too,” she admits. Not wanting to hide behind any of it anymore.

Xx

She doesn’t text Lexa for a week.

Not after the way they left it. She knows the ball is in her court and she wants to hold on to the tiny sliver of power she has.

Lexa knew this whole time.

Clarke re-reads her emails. Goes back through some of them after that night.

And then that last paragraph from the apology email. The one Clarke waited all day for.

_Please know that my duties have never weighed so heavily on me as they did last night. My job. My demands. My position._

_Please know that I wanted nothing more than to be sitting in that coffee shop with you._

_Someday I’ll explain everything. I only hope then that you’ll understand._

_Meanwhile, I’m still here._

She reads them all.

After the night Lexa was clued in there was a definite change. Her tone switched, became much more reserved and respectful.

Almost as if she didn’t want to overstep her boundaries.

Clarke doesn’t really know what to make of all of it.

She remembers how it all started to get bigger, this thing with Lexa. How talking to Lexa in person or texting was more thrilling than her email exchanges with The_Commander.

How even though they rebounded from the meet-up fiasco, she started to feel less connected to her inbox. More connected to the frustrating, broody, beautiful woman who was suddenly everywhere.

Suddenly everywhere and smiling at Clarke.

How eventually she lost interest in emailing the mysterious figure on the other side. How it all changed.

And then Lexa became a person she looked forward to seeing. Planned on seeing.

Shared meals and drinks with.

Laughed with.

Wanted to kiss so fiercely.

Lexa, Lexa helped that along.

By being herself.

By understanding just exactly what Clarke needed from her to move forward. To see her as more than a business rival and as just another person.

A person she could bond with, in any way.

Lexa, Lexa knew where she stood.

And she gave herself time to improve her standing.

And to show Clarke everything she is.

Clarke can’t help but be grateful for that. Even in the middle of all of it.

Lexa was patient and kind.

And open.

And there.

And Clarke, Clarke saw all of that.

Craved her calm presence.

Enjoyed her company. How easy it was to be with her.

To be silly and snarky and real and serious.

To just _be_.

She hasn’t ever really felt like that around anyone, ever.

But Lexa,

Lexa is special.

And Clarke truly cares for her.

Xx

Raven texts her constantly asking if she got over herself yet.

Reminds her that Lexa is probably hurting too. And confused. And dealing with all of these same feelings.

Clarke knows.

Knows that she needs to.

Knows that she’ll regret everything if they don’t at least have another conversation about it.

But really, Clarke misses her.

Misses everything about her.

Lexa, at least some variation of her, has been a constant in Clarke’s life for so long now.

Not having her around, on tumblr or in her inbox or in life, is just a void. One that Clarke will not have.

Right after it all went down. Right after Clarke woke up with a screaming hangover halfway in her bed and still in vodka soaked clothes, she was angry. Couldn’t let go of the fact that she had no choice.

Lexa was just there.

Always there.

But, Clarke knows it isn’t true.

She did have a choice.

And she kept choosing Lexa.

Choosing to spend time with her.

Choosing to see her.

Share pieces of her life with her.

That was all on Clarke, and she can’t deny it any longer or try to shove it away or pin it all on Lexa.

They were both complicit in this thing.

This… beginning.

She knows what she has to do now.

She knows she has to choose again. One path or the other. Cannot waste another moment stuck at this crossroads.

Clarke picks up her phone and stares at it for a long moment. Raven’s text unanswered and ignored. Octavia tried a few times, too. Clearly brought up to speed by her loudmouth of a girlfriend.

Someday, someday Clarke might thank them.

Today is not that day.

Instead, she goes back to the conversation that’s been sitting forgotten at the bottom of the list.

Lexa.

She reads through their last few messages. The ones from that day. The day Clarke asked her if she wanted it to be a date. She remembers waiting with bated breath for the answer. How her stomach swooped so low when it came.

If she’s being honest with herself, she can’t remember the last time she had been that happy.

And the vulnerability that rested on Lexa’s face when she told Clarke the truth, the open honesty and the pain and the regret, it’s haunting her.

**Can we meet?**

She sends the text and throws her phone on the bed, gets up and walks around. Paces. Tries to distract herself.

Her phone finally chirps.

**Yes.**

She sighs, overcome with strange relief.

**Let’s go back to the beginning. Pour in an hour?**

Another moment passes before Lexa answers.

**I’ll see you there.**

Xx

Clarke sits at the same table, watching the door the same way. Waiting and hoping Lexa will show up.

It’s all so familiar.

The door opens and a gust of wind comes in with her. She spies Clarke and smiles tentatively.

Shy.

She approaches the table with a smile. She is so vulnerable and skittish it makes Clarke’s heart ache.

“Is this seat taken?” She gestures to the empty seat and Clarke sends her a silly smile, trying to calm the nerves she can see.

“Nope.”

“May I?”

“You may.” She’s being so formal and polite and Clarke finds it even more endearing. It’s frustrating and wonderful at the same time.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“I wanted to give you space, but I’m glad you finally reached out.” There’s a soft smile and a layer of emotion swimming in Lexa’s eyes.

“I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

They fall into a strange silence. Lexa looks hesitant. Like she wants to say something, apologize or explain, but doesn’t know how to start.

“It’s ok, Lexa. I don’t want an explanation.”

It startles her. She softens.

“I’m sorry. _I’m_ sorry. I’ve been rude, so impossibly rude. When really, you’ve just been you. Doing your thing and working and running your business and I’ve been spitfire.”

Lexa goes to open her mouth, but Clarke stops her with a slight shake of her head.

“I blow up. I _always_ blow up. Raven calls me the Hulk sometimes. I just kind of react and deal with it later. I blew up at you at the party, I blew up at you when you came to apologize the next day. I’ve only ever reacted that way. That’s all you see from me.”

She takes a deep breath and holds Lexa’s bewildered gaze.

“For a while, I wasn’t sure. About any of it. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to move on, or to trust you. But… then I realized how much I missed you. And I had this epiphany that it wasn’t all you. It wasn’t. It was me too. Making the conscious decision to keep seeing you. To ask you out. To laugh with you and have you in my space. It was both of us, together.”

“Clarke, I-” Lexa stops and takes a deep breath. She looks weathered and sad. “I hate that I made you feel any of that. That I couldn’t get over my fear or whatever it was and just be honest with you.”

“I understand where you were coming from. I get it. I read through your emails, and I thought about all of it. All of our interactions since that night and I get it. I just… need a fresh start I think. _We_ need a fresh start.”

Lexa nods, relaxing into her chair even more. “I can do that. A fresh start. New leaf. Tabula rasa.”

Clarke laughs, “Really? You can’t just say blank slate like everyone else?”

Lexa’s lips tilt up into that smirk that Clarke is so fond of. The one that makes her eyes shine and settles into her cheek. “Where’s the fun in that?  Plus, you knew exactly what I meant.”

“I suppose I did.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Latte with some cinnamon on top?”

“You got it.”

Lexa stands and walks to the counter and Clarke takes another moment to breathe. To relax.

Clarke stands up and grabs her drink from Lexa, setting it on the table carefully. The large mug balanced precariously. Lexa breathes out a thanks and sends her a smile and it makes her weak.

And she realizes just how much she’s over her anger.

How much she’s over all of it.

Because it makes sense.

Lexa.

The_Commander.

It all makes sense.

“I am though.”

“You’re what?”

“Sorry.”

“I know, Lexa. We’re both just… it was a mess.”

Lexa nods and they both pause, sip their drinks and readjust.

“Do you trust me?” Her words hit Clarke harder than she thought. The soft way she says them. Like she’s standing on a precipice. Her eyes piercing through Clarke.

Clarke’s heart thuds hard against her ribcage. She knows the answer, feels it unequivocally. “Yes.”

Lexa visibly relaxes.

“If you pull anything weird again-”

“I won’t.” Lexa cuts her off. Strong words. Strong conviction.

Everything about her serious and solemn.

And Clarke gets it.

Decides that this is it. This is the moment.

Move on or leave.

It’s now or never.

“Ok, Commander. Stand down.”

Lexa cracks a smile. Surprised and caught off guard but smiling nonetheless. And the weird fog that has settled over them for the past week lifts away.

Clarke places her hand softly over Lexa’s on the table. Brushing her fingertips over the back of it like it was made of glass.

She moves her hand away, but Lexa stops her. Guides it back with her own and laces their fingers together.

And just like that, they step forward.

Clarke promising to herself never to bring any of it up again.

The serious, deep, wonderful look in Lexa’s eyes as they meet hers speaking volumes and pages. The understanding of this moment deep between them.

Both of them acutely aware of just how short life can be.

“How was your week?” She slides right into normal conversation as if nothing was ever wrong. Picking up where they left off. It’s easy.

It’s easy and wonderful and feels the same as it always has.

And Clarke loves it.

Xx

“Can I give you a ride home?” Lexa tilts her head to the car parked up the block.

Clarke smiles, “No, I’m good. Thank you though.”

She reaches out and grabs Lexa’s hand, squeezes it. Watches the surprise on Lexa’s face at the action. Her heart races when Lexa squeezes back.

They stayed in the coffee shop for hours. Talking. Laughing.

Settling back into their routine.

It was nice.

Wonderful.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Clarke asks.

“I have some free time for girls who ask nicely.” Lexa smiles and it makes her stomach flip. Lexa’s smiles always make her stomach flip.

“There’s this new gallery opening in Brooklyn, I was going to check it out. Do you, maybe, want to… I don’t know, be my date?”

“I’d love to, Clarke.” Lexa squeezes her hand again and steps closer. “I had a good time tonight.”

“I did, too.”

“Good. You know I was thinking of bringing flowers but then I didn’t because honestly I didn’t know what to expect and that could have been _very_ embarrassing for me.” She teases and steps closer again. Clarke can feel her breath dust along her skin.

“I wanted it to be you.” It’s an afterthought, the way it leaves her lips.

A breath expelled from her lungs.

Barely even said.

Lexa’s brow lifts up with the silent question.

“I wanted it to be you for so long.” Clarke feels lighter with the admission, the elephant is off her chest. It feels better the second time she says it. 

Acknowledges it.

And she can’t stop looking at Lexa’s mouth. Mesmerized. Wholly taken.

She tilts her head up and closes the distance, her lips brushing against Lexa’s. 

Tender. 

Barely there.

Not pushing the moment.

Just.

Unable to stand there and not be kissing Lexa any longer.

Lexa pulls away after a moment, all confusion and wide eyes and blushing cheeks. “Clarke?”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

Clarke closes the distance again and Lexa doesn’t hesitate this time. Her lips sliding along Clarke’s with ease. Her free hand wrapping around the small of Clarke’s back and pulling her closer.

_Finally._


	30. Chapter 30

Lexa is lost in Clarke.

Completely, irrevocably lost.

She doesn’t feel anything else.

Just Clarke’s lips.

Clarke’s hand on her cheek, holding her steady.

Clarke’s fingers twined with hers.

It’s more than she ever imagined. Could have dreamed.

She nearly short circuits with all of it.

The tongue and the lips and the little throaty gasp she chases, wanting to hear more.

The city is still and quiet around them. A bubble.

In a city that never sleeps, never goes softer than a dull roar, it’s just the two of them.

Finally.

Clarke pulls away and Lexa chases her lips. Not nearly done yet. Not nearly satisfied.

Not after all this time.

Not after everything.

She pulls Clarke closer and deepens the kiss again. Tilts her head and brushes her nose over Clarke’s and reconnects.

Her fingers are tingling and something burns through her veins. Her body warm and singing.

It’s never felt like this before.

Kissing someone.

But Clarke,

Clarke is special.

Xx

They finally break apart.

Breathless.

Smiling.

Clarke’s lips are red and kiss swollen and Lexa just wants to lean back in for more. Close the distance and dive into free fall again.

She rests her forehead against Clarke’s and breathes her in instead. Both of them stunned and weightless.

“Why did we wait so long to do that?” Clarke whispers around a laugh and Lexa feels it against her cheek.

“You hated me, remember? I don’t go around kissing girls who hate me.”

“Yeah, well, you should. It would be impossible to hate someone who kisses like that.”

“Clarke…”

Clarke pecks her lips again. Just once. Brushes her thumb along Lexa’s jaw. “I never hated you, Lex.”

It does something to her. Shakes her soul.

She grabs Clarke again, swallows her gasp of surprise and kisses her with a fire she didn’t know she had.

Something deep and real and big.

This time when they pull apart, Clarke is wide eyed and stunned. Lexa feels just the tiniest bit smug.

“If you keep kissing me like that I’ll never make it home.”

“If you keep kissing _me_ like that you’ll never convince me that you want to.”

Xx

Clarke finally starts walking away. Pushes Lexa to her car and leans in for a kiss before closing the door.

Lexa texts her as soon as she walks into the apartment.

Floating on a cloud and dazed.

And so indescribably happy.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling and she doesn’t fight it, not anymore.

Clarke texts back, lets her know that she made it home safe and in one piece.

They exchange messages until late into the night. So late the night turns to morning and Lexa is yawning more than anything. She finally says goodnight and flips her phone over, not wanting to be tempted.

The sleep she slips into is the most refreshing sleep she can remember in months.

Xx

Clarke wears a black dress that dips and curves around her body and Lexa thinks she’s died and gone to heaven.

She pulls Lexa into a heated, short kiss before guiding her away from the car and towards the subway.

Lexa quirks her eyebrow, but doesn’t fight it. Not when Clarke looks at her over her shoulder, daring her to question it. Not when Clarke’s hand feels so good in hers.

The gallery show is strange, abstract.

Not Lexa’s taste.

She spends her time watching Clarke instead.

Seeing Clarke see the work. The pieces. How her whole face lights up with the newness of them. How her brow sets, her mouth a thin line.

She doesn’t like them either, but she’s too polite to say anything.

A few people pull her away, hug her, catch up. Clarke smiles at all of them, sending Lexa soft smiles and looks just for her whenever it happens.

Until Clarke rejoins her, tucks herself into Lexa’s side and kisses her jaw.

“Let’s get out of here.”

They go to dinner.

A small, dark restaurant. Deep reds and blacks and a tree carved into one of the walls, the branches hanging over the tables.

It feels like they’re alone in the middle of a forest. Tucked away from everything else.

She soars when she makes Clarke laugh.

She soars when Clarke holds her hand on the table, brushing her fingers over the skin of Lexa’s wrist before curling them into the spaces between.

She soars when Clarke leans over the table to talk to her in that private way, hushed and quiet.

And when they walk back to the subway, Clarke swings her arm through Lexa’s and holds on to her elbow, bending herself around Lexa like she’ll blow away in the slight breeze.

But Lexa, Lexa isn’t going anywhere.

Xx

They’re on the train, tucked into the back corner of the subway car. It’s been two weeks of dates. Two weeks of smiles. Of late nights talking that span into early morning texts between them when they part.

Lexa hasn’t been able to wipe the smile off her face.

Clarke looks happier than she’s ever witnessed.

And when she looks at her, when she looks at her that way, like she almost can’t believe Lexa is _real_ and _here_ , it makes her heart stutter. Want to leap out of her chest.

“What do you think our first date was?”

The car screeches along, but she hears Clarke’s voice over the din.

Over the screeching and the rattling and the loud group of kids talking on one of the benches.

“Well, do you mean officially or unofficially?”

Clarke leans against her and Lexa squeezes her shoulders in jest.

Clarke kisses the skin on her neck and smiles at Lexa’s gasp. “Both.”

“Um,” Lexa can’t think with Clarke’s mouth so close. Clarke knows it. Too often they’ve gotten distracted that way. And she knows she’s not the only one. Too many times she’s teased Clarke for staring at her mouth with that look on her face, only to lean in and kiss her a second later.

“Come on, use that big brain in there, Lex.”

Lexa kisses her forehead. “Ok, unofficially… probably that time at The Ground when you ordered me that scone.”

Clarke laughs, buries herself against Lexa, gripping her waist, her fingers brushing against Lexa’s skin, sneaking under her shirt.

“That definitely doesn’t count. We were there for like ten minutes total, you goon.”

“Goon?”

“Yeah. Deal with it. Pick again, Fox.”

“Unofficially… ok, probably the time I brought you soup when you were sick.”

“You are the _worst_ at this game,” Clarke teases.

“You decide then!” Lexa huffs.

“Don’t pout.” Clarke runs a finger along her bottom lip. It surprises her, shocks her. She didn’t realize she was pouting. And she didn’t realize how much Clarke’s simple touch would set her pulse racing.

“Unofficially, probably brunch. Before you left for California.”

Lexa nods, “What about officially?”

“Um, well…. I would like to say it was Broadway night but we weren’t technically even aware of anything then, so it would probably have to be our second trip to Pour.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I don’t want that to be our first date.” She shakes her head and looks down at Clarke.

“But that was the first time you kissed me.”

“Yeah but, half of that was us reconnecting and making up for everything that happened before, that’s not romantic. Plus, you kissed me first.”

“I think it is.”

Lexa sighs, “I’ll never win this, will I?”

“As long as you know that, babe.”

Xx

They fall into bed on a random day.

After a short trip to the farmer’s market in Union Square.

Clarke picked up a fresh bouquet of flowers and Lexa couldn’t stop looking at her, mesmerized in the middle of all the hubbub.

Clarke took her hand then, kissing her cheek and walking through the vendors, pricing out vegetables they needed for dinner.

Leaning over and squeezing fruit, bringing it up to her nose to smell.

Haggling over prices and running her hands over anything in her reach.

It’s all too much for Lexa.

Too domestic.

Too real.

They spend an hour there before heading back to Lexa’s apartment.

Clarke puts the produce into the fridge and Lexa reaches up for a vase for the flowers and suddenly Clarke is behind her.

Wrapping her arms around Lexa’s torso.

Kissing the back of her neck.

Her breath warm against Lexa’s skin.

Lexa turns slowly in her arms, a smile on her face.

Clarke has a look on her face. One of awe and amazement.

Lexa brushes her cheek, tucks a stray hair behind her ear. Waits and watches at Clarke studies her. Her eyes dark.

Smoldering.

She can barely breathe. There is no space between them.

But she waits. Not able to move, not able to think.

Until Clarke is kissing her. Pulling her bottom lip between her own and leaning into Lexa even more. It’s soft at first.

Languid and slow.

Like so many of their kisses.

Like they’ll have time to kiss like this for the rest of their lives.

Until it’s not.

Her pulse quickens.

Clarke’s hands start roaming.

Pushing her back against the counter. Her kisses nipping, delving.

Heat.

All want and need.

Clarke is ruthless.

Lexa loves it.

Weaves her hands in Clarke’s loose hair and pulls her closer, as close as she can.

Clarke breaks away, needing to breathe. Kisses down Lexa’s neck. Pulls down the collar of Lexa’s shirt exposing more skin for her greedy mouth.

Lexa tugs her back up, needing her mouth. Needing to feel the desire on Clarke’s lips.

She pushes her back, hands firm on Clarke’s hips. Guides her down the hallway, removing her own shirt and then Clarke’s. Grabbing her face again to crash their lips back together.

Swallowing the moan from the other girl’s lips.

They stumble against the bed, falling onto it. Both laughing and blushing, but with one brush of her thumb over Clarke’s lips, it turns heated again.

Clarke unbuttons her jeans and starts to slide them off, biting her lip the whole time Lexa watches her. Lexa stands and pulls them down her legs, watching Clarke’s eyes darken as they’re lowered to the floor. Lexa wastes no time pulling Clarke’s off, finally kissing the skin that she’s been dreaming about, inch by inch until they’re gone and on the floor next to her own.

Soon they’re together in soft sheets.

Skin to skin.

Twisting and dancing.

Moans and gasps.

Shivering and grasping.

Writhing.

Hushed, ragged breaths. Whimpers.

Clarke matches her beat for beat. Moves effortlessly against her. With her.

Kiss for kiss.

Meets her where she needs, where she wants.

Lexa doesn’t know how they get there, into her bed. Can’t remember any of it, will never forget a second. It’s more than she bargained for, having Clarke.

It’s everything.

She is insatiable and alive and abuzz.

And it’s all because of Clarke.

And it’s all _for_ her.

And Lexa feels like they were made for this.

For each other.

And she wonders how they waited so long.

How it could possibly be any better.

She can’t remember the last time she wanted to know everything about someone. About what make them tick, gasp, fall apart at her fingertips.

But maybe that’s because it’s never felt like this before.

Like she’s floating yet tethered.

Tethered to Clarke.

In every possible way.

Xx

Clarke is nuzzling her neck, pulling her from sleep. Placing soft kisses there, nipping at her collarbone. Swinging her leg over Lexa’s waist and smiling into the skin when Lexa stirs.

“What time is it?”

“Late.” Clarke gets back to work, kissing up her jaw, pulling an earlobe between her teeth.

“ _Clarke_ ,” Lexa groans. Her hands moving of their own accord, down Clarke’s smooth back. The skin sleep warm and soft. “We have to cook for your friends.”

“We’ll order a pizza.” Clarke’s mouth moves closer, dots kisses on her cheek, her forehead.

“Pizza? You promised them a home cooked meal, they’ll know.”

A peck on her nose and then Clarke opens her eyes and looks at her. Lusty and deep. “They would have joked about it anyway, Raven lives to be inappropriate.”

Clarke slides her body more fully on top of Lexa’s. Her hands framing the dark waves on the bed, thumbs stroking her cheeks.

“Besides, I haven’t quite had my fill of you yet.”

Xx

Raven and Octavia do know. Share a look between them as soon as they walk in.

Clarke’s hair is still wet and pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. Lexa’s is braided back, her sweatpants hanging off her hips.

She lets them tease, nudge Clarke in the ribs and rag on her.

Because when Clarke looks at her, it doesn’t matter.

It’s dark and private.

Like she regrets not canceling entirely.

And Lexa can still feel the heat of her body as they moved against one another. Flashes of their afternoon in bed playing in her mind.

And it’s worth it.

The teasing.

Because Clarke is worth it.

Clarke has always been worth it.

Xx

It’s amazing, how seamlessly Clarke fits into Lexa’s life.

In reality.

In every way that matters.

How wonderful it feels to be with her. To be with her in _this_ way.

To be building something.

How many different kisses she has.

And laughs.

How her eyes change color with her mood.

How her voice husks so beautifully in the morning or late at night.

How every facet of her molds itself to Lexa’s life.

Lexa isn’t really even sure what life was before Clarke.

Xx

It’s early.

So early.

Clarke spent the night and barely flinched when the alarm went off. Lexa thought about silencing it. Curling back up with Clarke and waking up later to soft kisses and sunshine in golden hair.

But instead she swings her legs over the bed and drags herself to the bathroom, ready for her run.

She’s been slacking.

It’s been weeks since she’s kept her normal routine.

Not that she’s desperate for physical activity.

But running clears her head.

Clears it in a different way than sex. Than tangling her body with Clarke’s.

So she runs. Feels her muscles work. Her sore hips in need of stretching.

And all she does is think about Clarke.

The girl she left in her bed.

The girl wearing her soft, worn, Penn State shirt.

Wrapped up in the sheets and taking up as much space as physically possible.

Clarke.

This… wonderful being.

Complex.

Intriguing.

Wholly maddening.

She is softness.

She is fire.

She is…

She is Lexa’s favorite thing.

And so Lexa runs. Runs to get back quicker.

Back to lazy smiles and tender morning kisses.

And when she’s done she stops by the coffee shop at the corner of her street. The one Clarke has decided is her new favorite.

Latte in hand she wipes the sweat from her brow and lowers her music, waiting impatiently for the elevator to climb back up to her floor.  Clarke is still asleep. It’s still early.

She’s taken to sleeping in late now that she’s still enjoying her free time.

Lexa loves it.

How peaceful she looks in the big bed. How at home she looks in this space.

Lexa’s space.

And even though it’s early. And she’s sweaty and gross.

She leans down and kisses Clarke’s cheek, placing the latte softly on the table next to the bed.

She breathes in Clarke’s sleep smell and smiles, already so used to it.

Clarke mumbles and Lexa smiles wider, kissing her again.

“You missed a wonderful sunrise,” she whispers.

“You’re sweaty.” Clarke’s deep voice is even raspier with sleep. It is Lexa’s favorite thing, hearing Clarke’s first words of the day.

“I am.” A brush of nose along cheek.

Clarke moves to her back and stretches her muscles, squinting her eyes open.

“Why aren’t we sleeping?”

“Because I needed to run and you look beautiful.”

“I’m awake because I’m beautiful?” Her nose scrunches with confusion and Lexa leans down again and kisses her softly.

The tender, sweet good morning kiss she craved.

“You are. Plus, I brought you coffee.”

Clarke’s eyes open even more and her face spreads with a soft, easy smile. “But it’s too early.”

“It’s iced, I’ll stick it in the fridge.” She shifts to get up and Clarke holds her elbow, pulls her back.

Pulls her close for another kiss.

“I love you.”

It’s a whisper, but Lexa hears it everywhere. Feels it everywhere.

Stock still and frozen.

Sweaty and shaking above her girlfriend.

Hearing and not believing.

That feeling that engulfed her as she pounded across the pavement.

In time with her own heartbeat.

“Lex?”  

“You love me?” She croaks it out.

Clarke nods, bites her lip. “I do. Very much.”

Lexa’s mouth is dry and her heart feels like it’s going to jump out of her chest and fly away and she doesn’t think her feet have touched the ground since they started this thing and they definitely won’t now.

Clarke’s eyes so sure, her face so relaxed.

“I was so wrong about you. All those months ago I was _so wrong_. You are special. Brilliant. Kind and generous. You are so full of honor. And your heart… I know you like to hide it but it’s there and I get to see it. And you’re amazing. You amaze me every day, Lexa. And I am so, _so_ in love with you.”

Clarke is slow and quiet with her confession. Unfurling the words from her tongue with care, understanding the truth and weight that lies within them. Wanting to make sure Lexa understands. Comprehends. Pulls the words into herself to bloom underneath her skin.

She takes in Clarke’s face. Her easy smile. The eyes that search hers for an answer.

She leans in and kisses it onto Clarke’s lips.

Doesn’t let her breathe, pouring all of it into Clarke.

Everything she’s wanted to say for so long.

And the blooming begins. Stretching and growing in the spaces between them and filling them with love and feeling and emotion until the spaces are no longer.

They are both shaking when Lexa tears herself away.

“I’ve been in love with you for so long, Clarke.” She exhales it, her eyes swimming.

And she folds herself back into Clarke.

The coffee and her shower long forgotten.

Xx

They hang out with Aden.

Clarke plays basketball with him. Doesn’t let him win.

Lexa watches from the little bleachers on the side of the court with a new fondness in her heart. Clarke hasn’t stopped surprising her yet.

Aden talks to her excitedly about _Natblida_. Shoves the first issue in Clarke’s hands and makes her promise to read it.

When they get home that night, she devours it. Shoving Lexa and her wandering mouth away teasingly until she’s finished, before pulling her down into the sheets and calling her Commander with a new husk in her voice.

They get drinks with Anya. She watches Anya size Clarke up for a few moments when they arrive, but soon the both of them are teasing her and Lexa wishes she didn’t like it so much. How Clarke’s hand rests warmly on her thigh, how after every jab Anya lands, she’ll squeeze it or send her a smile.

 _Her_ smile.

It’s… wonderful.

Xx

When Clarke’s mother comes to town for a conference, Lexa’s hands sweat and her stomach flips when they walk into the hotel lobby to meet her for dinner.

Abby Griffin is a formidable woman, strong and smart and no-nonsense. She’s not sure what to expect, because even though the situation is clearly different now, Lexa is the one who ran the Griffins out of the book business.

The last thing she’s expecting is for Abby to pull her into a hug, ignoring Lexa’s proffered handshake and instead pulling her in. Clarke’s eyes are wide with surprise when they break apart, but by the end of the night all three of them are laughing over dessert.

Xx

The weather turns cold again. A chill draping itself over the city at the middle of June.

Rains every day for a solid week.

Clarke groans and grumbles.

So ready for summer.

The tease at the beginning of the month not long enough to appease her.

She tucks herself into Lexa’s side when they sit on the couch, sneaking her cold feet under Lexa’s warm legs.

“Clarke?”

“Lex?” She looks up with her eyebrow raised, that teasing challenge Lexa loves so much.

“When’s the last time you went on a vacation?”

“You mean like now? I’m sitting around with no job.”

“No,” Lexa brushes a kiss over her forehead. “When was the last time you went away. Like, took a vacation?”

“Um… probably a few years ago. Raven and I would take long weekends. But, nothing major. Why?”

“No reason.”

Two days later Clarke is sitting next to her on white sand. She’s all wavy hair, big sunglasses, and bikini. A smile plastered on her face.

Lexa doesn’t even want to look at the ocean in front of them. It’s there for her and her alone in Clarke’s eyes.

Clarke is breathtaking like this.

Relaxed and happy.

The smell of the sun on Clarke’s skin drives Lexa crazy.

She pulls her into bed, ravenous and needy.

They spend their days dozing in paradise and their nights alive and wild.

Xx

She rests her head on Clarke’s stomach. Not wanting to go back, to leave the sun, the freedom.

Clarke’s hands drag through her hair and she listens to a steady heartbeat below her ear.

“Clarke?”

“Hmm…” Clarke is half asleep and blissed out.

“Are you ever gonna tell me what Wanheda means?”

There’s a bubble of laughter that spills from Clarke’s lips and fills the empty, foreign space around them. Lexa props her chin up on Clarke’s stomach and bounces with her laughs.

Clarke brushes her hand through Lexa’s hair, her fingers trailing on the side of her face.

Her smile wide.

Lexa’s grin grows to match and she dissolves into giggles with Clarke. Climbing up her body and kissing her lips lightly between laughs.

And she takes it all in.

Everything that they are. Everything that she feels.

And she knows.

This, this is _it_.

What life is all about.

It’s indescribable and incandescent.

And they’re living it every day.

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached our conclusion. Thank you again to everyone who has read, devoured, supported this fic. I have had so much fun writing this story and I'm completely in love with them in this universe. Please, please, feel free to hit me up on tumblr to send me headcanons or one-shot prompts. I know these two will sit with me in my brain for a long, long time, so I would love to keep sharing them with you. We have all deserved so much better from our mass entertainment. And, until we get it (and probably even after) fic will be here to help heal our wounds. Signing off on this one! -- Orange


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